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CARL SCHURZ IN 1906 



CHAPTER I 

< \ ANY years ago I began at the desire of my children to 
v,rite down what follows. In the domestic circle, partly from 
myself and partly from relatives and old friends, they had 
heard much about the surroundings and conditions in which I 
had grown up, as well as about the strange and stirring adven- 
tures of my youth, and they asked me to put that which they 
had heard, and as much more of the same kind as I could give 
them, into the shape of a connected narrative which they might 
keep as a family memorial. This I did, without originally con- 
templating a general publication. 

The circumstance that this narrative was first intended 
only for a small number of persons who might be assumed to 
take a special interest in everything concerning the subject, 
may explain the breadth and copiousness of detail in the 
descriptions of situations and events, which perhaps will occa- 
sionally try the reader's patience. To soften his judgment he 
should imagine an old man telling the story of his life to a 
circle of intimates who constantly interrupt him with questions 
about this and that of which they wish to know more, thus 
forcing him to expand his tale. 

However, I have to confess also that while I was writing, 
the charm of story-telling, the joy of literary production, came 
over me, and no doubt seduced me into diffusenesses which I 
must ask the kind reader to pardon. 

Until recently it was my intent not to publish these remi- 
niscences during my lifetime, but to leave it to my children to 

[3] 



, 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
decide after my death how much of them should be given to th e 
general reading public. It appeared to me that such a publ |i- 
cation during the lifetime of the author might easily acquire 
the character of self-advertisement, especially in the case of a 
man who had been active in public life, and might, perhap, , 
continue to be so. But after ample consultation with judiciou * 
friends I have concluded that in consideration of my advance 1 
age and of my retirement, which manifestly exclude all political 
ambition, I could not be suspected of such designs. 

It is hardly necessary to say that in telling the story of 
my youth I had to depend largely upon memory. I am well 
aware that memory not seldom plays treacherous pranks with 
us in making us believe that we have actually witnessed things 
which we have only heard spoken of, or which have only vividly 
occupied our imagination. Of this I have myself had some 
strange experiences. I have therefore been careful not to trust 
my own recollections too much, but, whenever possible, to com- 
pare them with the recollections of relatives or friends, and to 
consult old letters and contemporary publications concerning 
the occurrences to be described. It may be indeed that in 
spite of such precautions some errors have slipped into my 
narrative, but I venture to hope that they are few and not 
important. 

When I began to write these reminiscences of my youth, 
I attempted to do so in English ; but as I proceeded I became 
conscious of not being myself satisfied with the work; and it 
occurred to me that I might describe things that happened in 
Germany, among Germans, and under German conditions, 
with greater ease, freedom, and fullness of expression if I 
used the German language as a medium. I did so, and thus 
this story of my youth was originally written in German. It 
was translated by my friend, Mrs. Eleonora Kinnicutt, and I 

[4] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
cannot too strongly express my obligation to her, who not only 
did for me the more or less dry work of turning German 
phrases into English, but was in a large sense my coworker, 
aiding me throughout with most valuable counsel as to the tone 
of the narrative, and as to passages to be shortened or struck 
out, and others to be more amply elaborated. 

I was born in a castle. This, however, does not mean that 
I am of aristocratic ancestry. My father was, at the time 
of my birth, a schoolmaster in Liblar, a village of about eight 
hundred inhabitants, on the left bank of the Rhine, three 
hours' walk from Cologne. His native place was Duisdorf, 
near Bonn. Losing his parents in early childhood, he was 
adopted into the home of his grandfather, a man belonging to 
the peasant class, who possessed a small holding of land upon 
which he raised some grain, potatoes and a little wine. Thus 
my father grew up a true peasant boy. 

At the period of his birth, in 1797, the left bank of the 
Rhine was in the possession of the French Republic. The years 
of my father's youth thus fell in what the Rhine folk called 
" The French Time," and later in life he had much to tell me 
of those stirring days; how he had seen the great Napoleon, 
before the Russian campaign, passing in review a body of 
troops in the neighborhood of Bonn; how, in the autumn of 
1813, the French army, after the battle of Leipzig, defeated 
and shattered, had come back to the Rhine ; how, while standing 
in the market-place at Bonn, he had seen General Sebastiani 
dash out of his headquarters in the " Hotel Zum Stern," leap 
upon his horse and gallop around with his staff, the trumpeters 
sounding the alarm and the drums beating the long roll, be- 
cause of the news that a band of Cossacks had crossed the Rhine 
between Bonn and Coblenz; how the French troops, stationed 

[5] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
in Bonn, had hurriedly formed and marched off in the direction 
of France, many disabled soldiers dropping out of the columns ; 
how, one morning, several bands of Cossacks, dirty, long- 
bearded fellows, on small, shaggy ponies, had swarmed over the 
country, and chased the French stragglers, killing many of 
them; how they had also forced themselves into the houses, 
stealing everything that took their fancy; and how, when 
the Cossacks had disappeared, the peasants hid their few 
remaining possessions in the woods, to save them from the 
oncoming Russians. 

Soon after, the troops belonging to the allied powers 
marched through the country, on their way into France to fight 
the campaign of 1814, which ended in the occupation of Paris 
and Napoleon's exile to the Island of Elba. A short period of 
apparent peace followed; but when Napoleon, in 1815, sud- 
denly returned from Elba and again seized the government of 
France, the Prussians levied fresh troops on the Rhine; all 
able-bodied young men were obliged to enlist; and so my 
father, who was then eighteen years of age, joined an infantry 
regiment and marched off to the seat of war in Belgium. The 
troops were drilled on the way thither in the manual of arms 
and in the most necessary evolutions to fit them for immediate 
service. My father's regiment passed over the field of Waterloo 
a few days after the battle, on its way to a small French for- 
tress which they were to besiege, but which soon capitulated 
without bloodshed. Later he was transferred to the artillery 
and raised to the dignity of a corporal, an honor which grati- 
fied not a little his youthful ambition. He regretted never to 
have been in actual combat, and later in life, when his contem- 
poraries told the stories of their deeds and dangers, he was 
always obliged to admit, with reluctance, the harmless charac- 
ter of his own war experiences. 

[6] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
Upon his discharge from military service my father 
entered, as a pupil, a teachers' seminary at Briihl, and was 
soon appointed schoolmaster at Lihlar. He had received a little 
instruction in music at the seminary and had learned to play 
the flute. This enabled him to teach simple songs to the school 
children and to form a glee club, composed of the youths and 
maidens of the village. In this glee club he made the acquaint- 
ance of my mother, Marianna Jiissen, whom he married in 
1827. My mother was the daughter of a tenant-farmer, Heri- 
bert Jiissen, who occupied part of a seignorial castle called 
" Die Gracht," near Liblar. My father and mother lived, for 
several years after their marriage, with my grandparents ; and 
so it happened that I, their firstborn, came into the world on 
March 2, 1829, in a castle. 

This castle, the ancestral seat of Count Wolf Metter- 
nich, was not very old — if I remember rightly it was built 
between 1650 and 1700 — a large compound of buildings un- 
der one roof; surrounding on three sides a spacious courtyard; 
tall towers with pointed roofs, and large iron weather vanes 
at the corners, that squeaked when moved by the wind ; a broad 
moat, always filled with water, encircling the whole; spanned 
by a drawbridge, which led through a narrow arched gateway 
into the court. In the wall above the massive gate, which was 
studded with big-headed nails, there was a shield bearing the 
count's coat-of-arms, and an inscription, which I puzzled out 
as soon as I could read, and which has remained in my memory 
through all the vicissitudes of my life. It read: 

" In the old days in Hessenland, 
I was called the Wolf of Gutenberg; 
Nou\ by the Grace of God, 
I am Count Wolf Metternich of the Gracht.** 

[7] y 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
This large group of buildings contained the dwelling of 
the tenant and his retainers, the steward's officers necessary for 
the management of the estate, the granaries and the stables. 
On the fourth side of the court a second bridge spanned a 
branch of the moat and led to a small but more pretentious 
building, also surrounded on all sides by water. This was the 
residence occupied by Count Metternich and his family during 
the summer and the shooting seasons. It also had its tall towers 
and spreading wings, containing a chapel and household service 
rooms. It was situated on somewhat higher ground, and seemed 
to dominate the other buildings. This residence, standing apart, 
was called "The House." A third drawbridge united 'The 
House " w r ith a park of about sixty acres, of which one-half 
resembled the Versailles gardens, with its straight pebble walks, 
labyrinths and trimmed hedges, and here and there statues of 
Greek gods and nymphs, fountains and ponds. Large orange 
trees, in green tubs, stood, like sentinels, in rows along the 
w r alks. 

The grounds were enlivened by flocks of guinea hens and 
stately moving peacocks. Another part of the grounds was 
laid out like an English park, with lawns, ponds and groups 
of tall trees and shrubbery, and here and there a small summer 
house or a pavilion. The estate as a whole was called by the 
people "Die Burg," and my grandfather was known in the 
village and surrounding country as " Der Burghalfen." " Hal- 
fen " was the name given originally to the farmer- tenants who 
went halves with the lord of the estate in the proceeds of the 
crops. This has in some parts of the Rhineland given way to 
the payment of a fixed rent to the landlord, but the old name 
" Half en " remains. 

My grandfather, the Burghalfen, had, at the time of my 
first recollection, attained his sixtieth year. He was a man of 

[8] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
huge proportions: over six feet in height, with powerful chest 
and shoulders, and massive features to correspond; square chin; 
a firm mouth and full lips; large straight nose; fiery dark eyes 
with bushy eyebrows; a broad forehead, shadowed with curly 
brown hair. His strength of muscle was astounding. Once, at 
a kirmess festival, when several other half en were his guests, 
my grandfather accepted a challenge to lift in his arms the 
great anvil which stood in the blacksmith's forge on the other 
side of the moat, and to carry it over the drawbridge, through 
the gate, into the house, up the stairs to the loft, and back again 
to the forge. I can see him now, striding along, up and down 
the creaking stairs, with the heavy block of iron in his arms, 
as though he were carrying a little child. 

Wonderful were the stories told about him: that once a 
mad bull which had broken loose from the barn into the court- 
yard and driven all the stablemen under cover, was confronted 
by him, single-handed, and felled to the ground with one blow 
of a hammer; and that when heavily laden wagons were stuck 
in the ruts of bad country roads he would lift them up and out 
with his shoulders; and various other similar feats. It is not 
unlikely that such tales, as they passed from mouth to mouth, 
may have gone a little beyond the boundary line of fact, and 
swelled into legendary grandeur ; but they were recounted with 
every assurance of authenticity ; and certain it is that the Burg- 
halfen was the strongest man of his day in the neighborhood 
of Liblar. 

His education had been elementary only. He could read 
and write, though with books he had little concern. But he 
was a man of great authority with the people. From the vil- 
lage and surrounding country men and women came to seek 
the Burghalf en's advice, and to lay their troubles before him ; 
and whenever report reached him of a quarrel among neighbors, 

[9] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
or between husband and wife, he would start forth with a 
stout stick in his hand for the seat of war. He would hear the 
case both for plaintiff and defendant, and after making up 
his mind which side was in the wrong he would pronounce 
judgment and deal out the punishment on the spot, which not 
seldom consisted in a sound thrashing. Against his verdict 
and its immediate execution — a somewhat patriarchal form 
of judgment — no one ever ventured to protest. 

When the harvest-time came and the Burghalfen needed 
laborers for his fields, he had only to walk through the village 
street, and old and young flocked to his service and worked 
for him with zeal until the harvest was safely garnered. But 
the spirit of helpfulness was mutual; whoever was in distress 
would say, " I will go to the Burghalfen," and he would do so, 
confident that no sacrifice would be too great, no service too 
burdensome to him, when the welfare of others was concerned. 
" Live and let live " was his principle and his habit. Every 
parish in the Rhineland had its yearly kirmess, with feasting, 
drinking, games and dances. These festivals lasted always three 
days, and were not infrequently carried over into a fourth. At 
such times relatives and friends visited one another, bringing 
along their families ; so that for those who had many brothers, 
sisters, cousins and intimate friends, opportunities for enjoy- 
ment were not wanting throughout the summer. At every kir- 
mess gathering that he visited the Burghalfen was the central 
figure. He was pleasure-loving — perhaps a little too much for 
his own good. There were few whom he could not " drink under 
the table " ; and he was a terrible fighter, too, when it came to 
blows; but fortunately this did not happen often, for he was 
a man of peace by nature. I have been told that when under 
strong provocation he would, in his wrath, seize a chair, dash it 
to pieces with a mighty foot thrust, grasp one of the legs for a 

[10] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CART, SCHURZ 
weapon, and, like Samson with the ass's jawbone, charge upon 
and drive the Philistines irresistibly before him. 

It was the custom in each parish to hold an annual " Schiitz- 
enfest," or bird-shooting. An imitation bird, made of a block 
of wood, strengthened with iron bands and plates, was fastened 
to a tall pole, from sixty to eighty feet or more from the ground. 
The shooting was done with rifles, and he who brought down 
the last bit of the wooden bird won the prize and was crowned 
king. This custom still exists to-day in many parts of Ger- 
many. If, upon such occasions, in the neighborhood of Liblar, 
the Burghalfen failed to appear, the festival was incomplete; 
but he seldom did fail. With his big rifle he was almost always 
among the first on the spot. This rifle, called " der Ferkel- 
stecher " (the pigsticker) , was a most remarkable and formida- 
ble weapon. Why it was so called I do not remember. It dis- 
charged a good handful of powder and a ball weighing fully 
eight ounces, and was so heavy that the strongest man could 
not hold it horizontally from his shoulder without support. 
Even my grandfather always placed one of his tallest yeomen 
behind him to grasp the weapon upon its heavy recoil. Innu- 
merable were the birds brought down with this formidable in- 
strument. Every victory was followed by a feast at the tavern, 
which not only swept away all the prize-money, but a goodly 
sum besides ; and not seldom did the victor return home with a 
hot and heavy head. 

But the Burghalfen was also a thorough husbandman; 
intelligent, energetic and indefatigable. Bright and early in 
the morning he was up and joined his laborers in the field, not 
only giving directions, but when occasion required setting a 
good example by doing himself the most arduous task. I still 
see him before me as, according to custom, he drove the first 
harvest load into the barn, whip in hand, sitting on one of the 

[11] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
four gayly decorated horses, which were harnessed tandem fash- 
ion to the wagon ; and I have often heard that his counsel about 
questions of husbandry was frequently sought and highly 
esteemed by his fellow- farmers. 

In his own home, of course, he was king, but a king who 
was loved as well as obeyed, and whose very faults were ac- 
cepted by others as a kind of necessity of nature which had to 
be submitted to, and would suffer no change. 

At his side, in remarkable contrast, stood my grandmother, 
a small, slender woman, with a thin, once pretty face ; delicate, 
devout and domestic; always active and full of cares. The 
household which she conducted was, indeed, sufficiently large 
and onerous to allow her but little rest. At dawn of day in 
summer, by lamplight in winter, she was busy superintending 
the preparation of breakfast for the working people and start- 
ing them at their various occupations. They numbered, men 
and girls, over twenty, without counting the day laborers. 

The " Folk," as they were called, assembled for meals in 
a hall on the ground floor, which had a vaulted ceiling resting 
on thick stone columns. On one side was a huge hearth, with an 
open-mouthed chimney; large pots hung over the fire on iron 
hooks and chains. This was the " commons " of the house. On 
the other side of the hall stood a long table, with wooden 
benches, at which the folk took their meals. Before sitting 
down — standing with their backs to the table — they all said a 
prayer; then the " meisterknecht," or foreman, struck a loud 
rap with the handle of his knife on the table, which was the 
signal for all to sit down. They ate their soup or porridge with 
wooden spoons out of big wooden bowls, which were arranged 
along the center of the table within easy reach. There were no 
individual plates or platters; meat and vegetables were served 
upon long, narrow strips of board, scoured white. The house 

[12] 




w 
■ji 

01 



i ~ 







THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
provided three-pronged iron forks; for cutting, the folk used 
their own poeketknives. The foreman dealt out the black bread 
in large chunks; white bread was given only on festive occa- 
sions. During the meal not a word was spoken, and when the 
foreman laid down his knife it was the signal that the repast 
was over. It goes without saying that he always allowed the 
people a sufficiency of food. They arose, again turned their 
backs to the table, repeated a prayer and separated, each to his 
or her task. 

During the time that the servants were taking their meal 
my grandmother busied herself with the help of a scullery maid 
at the big fireplace, preparing breakfast for the family. On 
one side of the hall a few steps led up into a smaller, though 
spacious, room, also with a vaulted ceiling. A long table stood 
in the middle, surrounded by chairs, of which several were 
upholstered in leather and adorned with bright copper nails. 
A wide window, with a strong outward-curved iron grating, 
opened into the courtyard and allowed a full view of whatever 
took place there. This apartment was the living-room of the 
family, and served also as a dining-room, except upon great 
occasions, when the feast was spread in " The Saal," on the 
opposite side of the servants' hall. This living-room was my 
grandmother's headquarters. It had a small window, cut 
through the wall into the folk-hall, for the purpose of enabling 
her to oversee whatever happened there; and through it her 
voice was at times to be heard instructing or reproving. When 
the autumn and winter evenings came she gathered around her 
the maid servants, of whom there were a dozen or more, with 
their spinning wheels. Then the flax was spun which supplied 
the house with linen; and while the wheels ^whirred the girls 
sang, my grandmother encouraging them by setting the tunes. 
The men, meanwhile, came in from the stables and workshops 

[13] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
and seated themselves on benches around the great hearth in the 
hall, to tell stories and to indulge in what passed with them for 
wit. In the summer evenings they sat around in the courtyard, 
or leaned upon the bridge-railing, chatting or singing. Two or 
three times during the year, in accordance with ancient custom, 
all assembled in the folk-hall for a romp ; blindman's-bufF and 
other games were played, and there was no end to the tumbling 
and pulling, shrieking and laughing, until, at a fixed hour, the 
foreman stalked in, like stern fate, and sent them all off to bed. 

Such were the surroundings in which I first became aware 
of existence, and in which the earliest years of my childhood 
were passed. It is remarkable how memory can hark back to 
the time of the first development of consciousness. So I have 
still before me a picture of myself, when I could not have been 
much more than two years of age. On the road, bordered with 
horse-chestnut trees, leading from the castle to the village, 
there was a pit enclosed in masonry, in which the count kept 
some wild boars. I can see myself distinctly, a small child 
in petticoats and a little white bonnet on my head, sitting upon 
the wall, looking down with a mixed feeling of delight and 
terror. upon the great black monsters, with their terrible white 
tusks. As I sat there, an old man with shining buttons on his 
coat approached, talked with the woman who had charge of me, 
and gave me some cake. My mother, to whom in later life I 
recalled this, told me that the man wearing the castle livery 
must have been old Bernhard, the count's body-servant, who 
died when I was in my third year. 

Another picture I see before me: A large flock of sheep, 
with the lambs, returning home from the pasture in the dusk of 
the evening, bleating and crowding with impatient haste 
through the gateway into the court. Sitting on my mother's 
arm, I watched them ; the old shepherd approaches to allow me 

[14] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
to touch the shining little shovel on the end of his long staff, 
toward which I had stretched out my hand; but the old man's 
grim and wrinkled face frightens me; I shrink back and cling 
closely to my mother's shoulder. 

With special pleasure do I recall the great cow stable, 
built like a church, with a central arched nave and two lower 
side naves, in which the cows stood — about forty in number. 
My mother, who interested herself in the work of the dairy, 
took me with her sometimes when she went to see that the ani- 
mals were properly cared for. How warm it was there of a 
winter's evening! Sitting on a bundle of hay or straw, in the 
dim light of the lantern, suspended from the high arch of the 
central nave, I used to listen to the softly murmuring sounds 
of the kine chewing their cud, which filled the great space with 
a peculiar sense of comfort, and to the chatter and the songs of 
the dairy maids as they busily moved to and fro, calling the 
cows by their names. 

My mother told me later that when I was between three 
and four years old I had a very exciting love affair. The 
count had a daughter, who was then about eighteen or nineteen, 
and very beautiful. The young Countess Marie, when she met 
me on her walks, sometimes stroked my red cheeks with her 
hands, as young ladies do now and then with very little boys. 
The consequence was that I fell ardently in love with her, and 
declared frankly that I would marry her. My intentions were 
quite determined, but the young Countess Marie did not seem 
to look at the matter as seriously as I did, and that led to a 
catastrophe. One day I saw her standing with a young man at 
one of the windows of the house, busy catching carp with a hook 
in the moat of the castle. A furious fit of jealousy seized me; 
I demanded, screaming, that the young man should leave the 
adored Countess Marie at once, in default of which I insisted 

[15] 






THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
that someone should throw him into the water. I grew still more 
furious when the young gentleman not only did not leave, but 
even seemed to be laughing at me. I made such a noise that the 
castle folk came running from all parts, to see what was the 
matter. I told them, with hot tears ; and then they also laughed, 
making me still more furious. At last the count's good old 
cook hit upon a successful idea; she took me into the kitchen, 
where she gave me a small jar of quince jelly to eat. Quince 
jelly was then to me an entirely new form of human happiness, 
and it had a remarkably quieting effect upon my distressed 
feelings. So far the tale my mother told me; and I will con- 
fess that quince jelly has ever since remained my favorite 
sweet. 

' The Burg " had also its terror for me; it was the head of 
a roe buck, with black antlers and very large eyes, which 
adorned the wall at the end of a long corridor. I do not know, 
and probably never knew, why this head of a roe buck was so 
terrible to me ; but certainly it was so ; and when I had to pass 
it I ran as fast as my little legs would carry me. 

I can still hear the horn of Hermann, the count's hunts- 
man, who, on fine evenings, sat on the bridge-railing and played 
merry tunes that reverberated from the walls and the towers 
of the castle. This huntsman was a great personage in my 
eyes, for on festive occasions he, arrayed in brilliant uniform 
with gold lace, a hunting-knife at his side, and a waving bunch 
of feathers on his hat, accompanied the count. He came to a 
sad end, poor Hermann ! One day he was found in the forest, 
dead; probably shot by poachers. This was the first tragic 
sensation of my life. We children, for a long time afterwards, 
would point to this man or that, with a shuddering suspicion 
that, perhaps, he might have been the murderer of Hermann. 

I must have been a little over four years old when my 

[16] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
parents left the castle to establish a home of their own in the 
village of Liblar. The village consisted of one street. Mid- 
way on an elevation stood the parish church with its pointed 
steeple and cross. The houses, mostly one-storied and very 
small, were of whitewashed plaster, with frames and beams ex- 
posed, and tiled roofs. There were perhaps half a dozen brick 
buildings in the village, belonging to the count. The inhabitants 
of Liblar, small farmers, laborers, mechanics and a few inn- 
or shop-keepers, took an especial pride in their village because 
its street was paved with cobblestones. Notwithstanding our 
house had two stories, it was very small, with ceilings so low 
in the upper story that my grandfather when standing 
upright almost touched them with his head. 

Although we no longer lived at the castle, I continued to 
be my grandfather's favorite, and he wished me to come to 
him as often as possible. My mother had to take me almost 
every day to the Burg, and I accompanied my grandfather 
sometimes even at his work. At harvest time, when he took 
the loaded wagons into the barn, I had to sit with him in the 
saddle. In the late autumn, when the slaughtering of the fat 
swine, — a work which he insisted upon performing himself, — 
took place, the honor fell to me of carrying the big, leathern 
knife-case, the bright buckled straps of which were wound 
around my neck so that they should not drag along the 
ground. And the more important I believed myself to be on 
such occasions the greater was my grandfather's delight. On 
rainy days he lent me an old gun with a flint lock, and taught 
me how to cock and snap it so that it gave out sparks. Then I 
was allowed to go hunting in the sitting-room and the adjoining 
chambers, and to shoot as many deer and wild birds as my 
imagination could scare up. This would amuse me for hours; 
and my grandfather then took me on his knees and listened to 

[ n 1 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
the wonderful tales about the game I had bagged and the 
adventures in the forest and field I had encountered. 

Suddenly a terrible misfortune befell the family. My 
grandfather had a stroke of paralysis. The upper part of his 
body remained sound, but he could no longer walk or stand. 
And thus, alas! the Burghalfen's bustling activity came to a 
sudden end ; no more feats of strength ; no more merry rides to 
the bird-shooting and to the kirmess. The robust man, yester- 
day still proud of his vigor, was now obliged to sit still from 
morning until night, his legs swathed in flannel. During the 
daytime his great armchair stood at the sitting-room window 
with the outward-curved grating, so that he might overlook the 
courtyard. He attempted to conduct farm affairs in this way, 
but he soon had to delegate his authority to a younger brother. 
And now the suddenly aged man did not know what to do 
with himself nor with his time. The Cologne Gazette was 
daily brought to him, but reading had never been much to his 
liking. It being summer and fly-time, a movable table at- 
tached to his armchair was sprinkled with sugar to attract the 
flies that swarmed into the room. He would sit for hours with 
a short leathern-flapped stick in his hand killing flies, now and 
then giving the table a terrible whack. 

' This is all that I am still fit for," sighed the once useful 
man. Often I was taken to him to entertain him with my boy- 
ish prattle and to make him laugh. Then he began to tell me 
about bygone days, especially about the " French times," and 
the experiences of landed proprietors and peasants during those 
terrible years of war and pillage. As he talked I could see the 
merry " sans-culottes " swarming over the land, indulging in 
their wild pranks. I saw, as they approached, Count Wolf 
Metternich one night flying from the castle in a hurry, after 
having buried and walled his treasures, including the family 

[18] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
archives, deep down under one of the towers, and confided all 
the belongings he left behind him to my grandfather's safe- 
keeping. I could see one of the great Napoleon's generals ride 
through the gate, filling the court with brilliantly uniformed 
horsemen, and take up his quarters in the great house. When 
my grandfather's narrative reached the period of the departure 
of the French and the arrival of the Cossacks he became spe- 
cially animated. Then it was that the castle people had to hide 
in the depths of the forest all their horses and wagons, cows, 
sheep and pigs, lest they should fall a prey to either the re- 
treating French or to the advancing Russians. Time and 
again I made him describe the Cossacks. They ate tallow 
candles and ransacked the house and stables for spirits. Find- 
ing none, they threatened to use force with my grandmother; 
whereupon my grandfather knocked a few of them down, and 
was much surprised that none of their comrades came to their 
help. When the search for " schnapps," however, continued, 
my grandmother hit upon the happy idea of filling a barrel 
with vinegar, to which she added a large quantity of mustard 
and pepper-seeds and a little alcohol. This brew, which would 
have burned like fire in the throats of ordinary mortals, the 
Cossacks praised highly; moreover, it seemed to agree with 
them. With all their devilishness they possessed a God-fear- 
ing sense, for whenever they were planning an especial mis- 
chief they would carefully cover the eyes of the crucifix on 
the wall so that the good Lord might not see the sin that they 
were about to commit. 

Stories like these were told me over and over, and elab- 
orated to suit my endless questions and my insatiable craving 
to know more ; so that before I could read or write my grand- 
father's stirring recollections had etched into my mind a very 
fair impression of the Napoleonic wars, so closely compli- 

[19] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
cated with the future history of Germany, and laid a founda- 
tion for my future political opinions and sympathies. 

In the winter evenings the Burghalfen's great armchair 
was rolled up to the center-table for a game of cards; but in 
spite of all efforts made for his entertainment, the sad contrast 
between the past and the present soon undermined his cheerful- 
ness. He tried to appear content, and not to be a burden to 
his loved ones, but the old life of bustle and gayety at the 
Burg, of which he had been the soul and center, was for- 
ever gone; and soon other clouds loomed upon the horizon. 



[20] 



CHAPTER II 

IjEFORE I was six years old my father took me into the 
village school of which he was the teacher. I remember that 
I could read and write very early, but not how I acquired 
those arts. Much I owed to the instruction which my father 
gave me at home. I had frequented the village school hardly 
a year when my father resigned his position as schoolmaster. 
The salary, about $90 a year, was too pitiably small to support 
the family, to which in the meantime two little girls had been 
added. 

My father, like all who feel within themselves a yearning 
for knowledge with few opportunities for satisfying it, had 
the earnest ambition to give to his children the education that 
fate had denied to him. With this object in view he made a 
start in a new direction, and opened a hardware-shop, for 
which he appropriated a part of the house which had once 
been a cow-stable, hoping that the business would gradually 
yield an income sufficient for the family needs. In me he be- 
lieved that he had discovered an aptitude for study. He there- 
fore decided that at the proper age I should go to the " gym- 
nasium " and later to the university, to be fitted for one of the 
learned professions. For the time being I continued to attend 
the village school, but the instruction I received there was 
early supplemented in various directions. It was my father's 
especial wish that all his children should study music. To this 
end, when I was about six years old, a queer little piano was 
procured which had neither pedals nor damper, and possessed 
several peculiarities incident to old age. But it served well for 

[21] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
my first finger exercises, and to me the instrument was very 
beautiful. Now we had to find a music teacher. The organist 
who played in our village church possessed an ear for har- 
mony, but, devoid of training, he could hardly decipher the 
simplest composition on paper. The village folk had accus- 
tomed themselves to his performances, and when there 
occurred in his interludes some strange entanglements nobody 
was much disturbed. After the organist frankly admitted to 
my father, with entire preservation of his dignity, that his 
musical talents did not include an ability to impart knowledge 
to others, it was decided that I should go twice a week to 
Briihl, a town four miles distant, to receive lessons from the 
well-equipped organist living there. The broad turnpike 
leading to Briihl passed through a great forest. It was a 
mailcoach road; and whenever the postilion happened to see 
me trudging along he would invite me to a seat with him on 
the box, which was a great favor cheerfully accepted. After 
a while my younger brother Heribert joined me in taking 
music lessons, and this enabled me to enlarge the scope of my 
studies; for while Heribert was taking his lessons with the 
organist I had time to lay the foundation of a knowledge of 
Latin with the parish priest. Thus we wandered twice a week 
to Briihl and back, singing duets on the way, and as we were 
both blessed with a good ear, and were not wanting in voice, 
it may have sounded well enough. At least we attracted the 
attention of many passers-by. Once a pleasure party, stop- 
ping their traveling carriage, and dismounting, invited us to 
sit with them under the trees, where they made us go through 
our entire repertoire and rewarded us with good things from 
their provision hamper. 

My brother Heribert, fifteen months younger than I, was 
a charming boy; blue-eyed, blond, of a most cheerful tem- 

[22] 




CHRISTIAN SCHURZ 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
perament and an exceedingly amiable disposition. He liked to 
occupy himself with animals and flowers more than to sit still 
and pore over books ; so it was decided that he should become a 
florist gardener. We two clung fondly to one another, and my 
mother later in life often told me that she had no greater 
joy than to see us together when, clothed alike and in many 
ways recognizable as brothers, we were the most cordial com- 
rades in work and play. Nor were wild pranks wanting, 
though there were none of a vicious nature. The worst ad- 
venture made at the time a profound impression upon me and 
has remained vivid in my memory. The old half en of an estate 
near Liblar died, and as he belonged to our extensive kinship, 
we two brothers had to carry lighted tapers in his funeral 
procession. After the burial, according to Rhenish custom, 
the relatives and friends attending sat down to a funeral 
feast. Such repasts, however solemn at the start, were apt to 
degenerate into merry carousals. And, so it happened this 
time. The feasting lasted long and the excellent wines pleased 
the mourners mightily. A thoughtless uncle had the un- 
fortunate idea that this would be a good opportunity for 
giving my brother Heribert and me a practical lesson in wine- 
drinking. He filled and refilled our glasses, constantly urging 
us to empty them. The result was that first we became very 
jolly and finally slipped from our chairs under the table in an 
unconscious state; whereupon, profoundly sleeping, we were 
put into a haycart and taken home. When we woke up the fol- 
lowing morning and heard what had happened we were 
heartily ashamed. I do not know whether at that time I re- 
solved never to allow the like to happen again; but certain it is 
that this occurrence gave me a profound loathing for drunk- 
enness, which I have carried with me through life; and al- 
though I have always taken wine or beer whenever it pleased 

[23] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
me, that excess at the funeral-feast has remained to the 
present hour my only one. 

Of intellectual stimulus our village did not offer much, ex- 
cept that which I found within our home walls and in the larger 
family circle. My mother's opportunities for cultivation had 
never extended heyond the parish school and intercourse with 
relatives and friends. But she was a woman of excellent mental 
qualities — in a high degree sensible, of easy and clear perception 
and discernment, and apt to take a lively interest in everything 
deserving it. But the chief strength of her character lay in 
her moral nature. I know no virtue that my mother did not 
possess. Nothing, however, could have been farther from her 
than assumption of superiority, for she was almost too modest 
and self-effacing. Rectitude, which is as it is because it cannot 
be otherwise, was in her joined to the gentlest judgment of 
others. Her disinterestedness in every trial proved itself capa- 
ble of truly heroic self-sacrifice. The sorrows of those around 
her she felt more deeply than her own, and her constant care 
was for the happiness of those she loved. No misfortune could 
break her courage, and the calm cheerfulness of her pure soul 
survived the crudest blows of fortune. When she died, nearly 
eighty years old, she had even in the last moments of con- 
sciousness a bright smile for the children and grandchildren 
standing at her bedside. Her figure was slender and well- formed 
and her features somewhat resembled those of our grandfather. 
We children always admired her curly golden-brown hair. 
Whether in the blossom-time of her life she would have been 
called beautiful or not we never knew; but her countenance was 
to us all love and goodness and sunshine. The customs and 
forms of the great world were of course unknown to her, but 
she possessed the rare grace of noble naturalness which goes 
far to supply a deficiency in social training. Her handwriting 

[24] 




MOTHER OF SCHURZ 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
was awkward and her spelling by no means faultless. Of litera- 
ture she knew little, and with grammar and style she had never 
been troubled. But many of her letters, written to me at differ- 
ent times and in different situations of life, were not only filled 
with noble thought and sentiment, but possessed rare poctie 
beauty of expression; the unconscious greatness of her soul 
found its own language. Her very being exercised a constantly 
elevating and stimulating influence, although she could aid her 
children but little in the acquisition of what is commonly called 
knowledge. 

All the more zealous was my father in this direction. The 
low whitewashed walls of the small, modestly furnished living- 
room of our house, in which we also took our meals, were hung 
with the portraits of Schiller, Goethe, Wieland, Korner, Tasso 
and Shakespeare; for poets, historians and scientists were my 
father's heroes, and he early told me of their creations and 
achievements. He read every book he could lay his hands upon 
and had collected a few of his own, among them Becker's 
" Universal History," some German classics and some transla- 
tions from Voltaire and Rousseau. But these books were still 
beyond my childish comprehension ; and so others were obtained 
for me from a circulating library at Briihl. There we found 
a series of folklore tales, pretty well-told old legends of Em- 
peror Octavianus, and the four Haimons children, and the 
horned Siegfried, and strong Roland, etc., and some of the 
popular knight-stories, the contents of some of which I still 
could tell. 

Then a new world opened itself to me. The old head 
gardener of the count, who had observed my love of reading, 
gave me one day that most magnificent of juvenile books, 
" Robinson Crusoe." It may be said without exaggeration that 
to " Robinson Crusoe " the youth of all civilized peoples have 

[25] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
owed more happy hours than to any other one book. I can still 
see it before me, as I grasped it eagerly as soon as school hours 
were over ; I can see the worn edges of the binding, the wood- 
cuts, even the inkspot which to my extreme annoyance disfig- 
ured one of them; and I can still hear myself telling the school- 
master about the wonderful contents of this book and begging 
him to read it aloud to the class, which he did on two afternoons 
in the week, his own interest increasing so much with every 
reading that the hours gradually lengthened, to the detriment 
of other studies. Next to " Robinson Crusoe ' came the 
" Landwehrmann," a popular history of the war of liberation 
in 1813, for which my interest had been excited by my grand- 
father's and my father's reminiscences, and from the reading 
of which I emerged a fiery German patriot. And finally I was 
led up to higher literature by my father's reading aloud to me 
while I was ill with the measles some of Schiller's poems, and 
even the " Robbers." 

There were still other stimulating family influences. My 
mother had four brothers. The oldest, " Ohm Peter," as we 
children called him, had served in a French regiment of grena- 
diers during the last years of Napoleon's reign, and was rich 
in recollections of that eventful period. The wars over, he mar- 
ried the daughter of a halfen and became himself the halfen 
of a large estate in Lind, near Cologne. In body and mind he 
resembled my grandfather, and we children loved him heartily. 
The second was " Ohm Ferdinand." He was the superintendent 
of extensive peatworks belonging to Count Metternich, and 
lived in Liblar in comfortable circumstances. He had risen in 
the Prussian military service to the dignity of a " Landwehr- 
lieutenant," and when he turned out at the periodical musters 
in his fine uniform, a sword at his side and a " tschako " with a 
high bunch of feathers on his head, we children looked at him 

[26] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
with awe and admiration. This uncle had read much and was 
the free-thinker, the Voltairian, of the family. ITe also be- 
longed to a Freemasons' lodge in Cologne, of which it was 
whispered among the village-folk that the members had sold 
themselves body and soul to the devil, and that at their fre- 
quent night-meetings the devil appeared in the guise of a black 
goat and demanded homage of them. The fact that " Ohm 
Ferdinand " never went to church on Sunday seemed to confirm 
the worst rumors with regard to him. The third brother, 
" Ohm Jacob," lived at Jiilich, a fortified town not far distant, 
where he married the daughter of a merchant and established 
himself in mercantile business. He was an extraordinarily 
handsome man in face and figure; of fine, amiable qualities, and 
of distinguished personality. His admirable character won for 
him the respect and liking of the community to such a degree 
that he was elected burgomaster, an office which he held for 
many years with great dignity and with popular approval. 
Once a year he visited the great fair at Frankfurt-on-the- 
Main, from which he returned by way of Liblar, bringing to 
us pretty little gifts and also interesting tales about the 
remarkable men and things he had seen and heard there. 

The fourth and youngest brother was " Ohm Georg," who 
had served in a regiment of cuirassiers in Berlin and then had 
come home to aid my grandfather in his husbandry. He had 
lived three years in the capital of the kingdom, and therefore 
had looked far beyond the shadow of the church-steeple of his 
home. He, too, was a handsome man, and had the chivalrous 
trait of the family. Each one of the four brothers was over six 
feet in height, and together they formed a stately group. Not 
in stature only, but in intelligence and breadth of view they 
towered far above the ordinary people of their surroundings. 
In addition to them there were two brothers-in-law — my 

[27] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
father and " Ohm Rey," the husband of a sister of my 
mother's, a wideawake and jovial man, who owned a large farm 
about an hour's walk from Liblar. This circle met often 
in happy social intercourse. The conversation at such times 
was by no means restricted to local topics, nor to the trans- 
action of every-day business. These men read newspapers, 
took an interest in all that happened in the outer world, and 
discussed, if not with thorough knowledge, at least with eager 
interest and sympathy, the events that moved humanity at large. 
Not seldom was I present at these talks, leaning against the 
arm of my father's chair or crouching unnoticed in the corner 
of the room, a silent and receptive listener. Here it was that I 
first heard of the struggles of Abdel-Kader in Algiers and of 
the hero Schamyl in the Caucasus; of the repeated attempts 
upon the life of Louis Philippe in France and the Carlist 
wars in Spain, with the generals of high-sounding, musical 
names, and — what especially excited me — of the imprisonment 
of the Archbishop of Cologne for Jesuitic conspiracies against 
the Prussian Government. And so on. Much of what I heard 
was at first to me little more than mere sound. Still I asked 
many questions, which were answered by my father and by my 
uncles as well as they could. And although perhaps the mind 
of the boy thereby acquired but little clear understanding of 
things, the feeling took early root in me that we in our little 
village were a part of a great world, the affairs of which con- 
cerned us, too, and demanded our attention and sympathy. 

In this family circle I also heard for the first time about 
America. A peasant family of our village, by the name of 
Trimborn, emigrated to the United States. I still have before 
my eyes the picture of their departure. One afternoon a wagon 
loaded with trunks, boxes and household utensils started from 
a neighboring cottage; the village-folk wished good luck to 

[28] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
the emigrants, and a large crowd followed them until the wagon 
disappeared in the forest on the road to Cologne. Another 
family, by the name of Kribben, who were particular friends 
of ours, soon followed the Trimborns to settle in Missouri, 
where I saw them many years later. Meanwhile, things 
American were eagerly discussed by my father and my uncles. 
Then I heard for the first time of that immeasurable country 
on the other side of the ocean, its great forests, its magnificent 
rivers and lakes — of that young republic where the people 
were free, without kings, without counts, without military 
service, and, as was believed in Liblar, without taxes. Every- 
thing about America that could be got hold of was eagerly 
read, and I saw for the first time in a penny magazine the 
picture of George Washington, whom my father called the 
noblest of men in all history, because he had commanded large 
armies in the war for the liberation of his people and, instead 
of making himself a king, had voluntarily divested himself 
of his power and returned to the plow as a simple farmer. 
By this example my father explained to me what it was to be 
a true patriot. 

The men in our family circle fairly reveled in that log- 
cabin romance, which is so full of charm to the European 
unacquainted with the true conditions of American life; and 
it wanted but little to induce the men of the family to try their 
fortune in the new world at once. Although the resolution was 
not taken in a hurry, America always remained a favorite 
topic of conversation with them ; and in the course of time every 
member of my family did emigrate, some to remain in 
America, others to return to Germany. 

Among grown-up people outside of the family, too, I 
found a friend who stands out in mv memory in bold relief. He 
was a singular character. His name was George van Biirk, and 

[29] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
as he had been a master shoemaker, he generally went by the 
name of " Master George." Feeble sight obliging him to re- 
nounce his trade, he made a living as an errand man, and was 
so frequently employed by my father in that capacity that he 
almost seemed to belong to our house. He was then a man in 
middle life, tall and thin, with a haggard and sallow but 
pleasant face, to which, however, a whitish spot in one of his 
eyes gave a peculiar expression. He was one of that class of 
persons who with good natural endowments have had but 
little education, but whom that little has served to lift out 
of the rut of the commonplace. He had read all the books 
that had come in his way, and although many of them went 
beyond his comprehension, they had helped shape his thoughts 
and notions. He had all sorts of droll conceits, which he gave 
forth with facility of expression and sometimes in piquant 
terms of speech, and as he was, withal, an amiable soul, every- 
body liked him. 

The whole population of the village and surrounding 
Rhine country, my own family included, was Roman Catholic. 
So was Master George; but upon many points he could not 
agree with the church. " Why," he argued, ' if we are to 
believe blindly and never think for ourselves, why did the all- 
wise Creator give us our reason? ' This view he applied with 
especial acuteness to the sermons of the parish priest. Also 
with the Apostle Paul he had various differences of opinion. I 
was still a mere child, but he confided his religious scruples and 
philosophical contemplations to me, thinking that as I was to 
become a learned man, the sooner I formed opinions of my own 
on serious subjects the better. With especial earnestness he 
warned me against studying theology with the intention of 
entering the priesthood — for " these divines are obliged to say 
too many things which they do not themselves believe." And 

[30] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
then he attacked with great eloquence the miracles of which the 
Bible tells us, and which he confessed he could not understand. 
Sometimes, however, he seemed to remember that after all 
I was only a child. He would then take me upon his knee and 
tell me fairy-stories, such as one tells to children, but he never 
omitted to add that the stories were not true and that I must 
promise not to believe therm This I did promise, but always 
asked for more. The child's mind has a craving for the super- 
natural, and although terror taken by itself is an uncomfortable 
sensation, still the shudders produced by the thought of the 
monstrous and awful have for it a strange fascination. The 
village people among whom I lived were for the most part 
superstitious to a degree. They firmly believed in the personal 
devil with horns and tail, and in witches who were in intimate 
league with him ; and there were even two or three old women in 
our village to whom the finger of suspicion pointed as being 
" not quite right." I also heard some of our neighbors tell of 
' men of fire ' whom they had seen with their eyes walking 
about the fields at night. These were said to be lost souls con- 
demned for their misdeeds in the flesh to wander about forever 
in fiery torment. Although I knew perfectly well from my 
talks with my parents and uncles and Master George that there 
were no such creatures as witches, and that the " men of fire ' 
were only will-of-the-wisps arising from the vapors of the 
moorland, nevertheless I found it delightfully gruesome to 
stare at these old women and cautiously to visit the morass 
where these terrible " men of fire " were said to hover. 

To my friend, Master George, I am also indebted for my 
first understanding of the word philosopher. There stood in 
our village street an old deserted house which must once have 
been a more aristocratic dwelling than its neighbors. It was 
larger, the beams of its framework were more artistically fash- 

[31] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
ioned and ornamented, and the entrance had a porte cochere, 
jutting out into the street. At the time of which I write the 
house was empty and dilapidated, and we village children tore 
up and down its rickety stairs and passageways and found its 
vacant rooms, with their dark corners, well adapted for hide- 
and-seek and robber plays. 

This uncanny place interested me deeply, and from Mas- 
ter George I learned that its last owners and occupants had 
been two old bachelors by the name of Krupp, then long dead. 
The older of the two, so Master George told me, was a very 
peculiar gentleman. He wore his hair braided in a cue and on 
his head an old-fashioned three-cornered hat. He had but one 
eye and he wore spectacles with only one glass. These were 
sewed to the front corner of his hat so that the one glass should 
drop into place over the one eye the instant that he put his hat 
upon his head. He possessed a large library and was a very 
learned man. He would often wander through the village 
street, absorbed in thought, his hands behind his back, not no- 
ticing anyone. He never went to church, and before he died 
refused to receive extreme unction. Krupp, so Master George 
always wound up his talk about him, was " a true philosopher." 
I asked my father whether this queer man had really been a 
philosopher. My father thought so beyond a doubt. This, 
then, was my first conception of a philosopher, and frequently 
in late life, when I heard philosophy and philosophers spoken 
of, has the picture of the three-cornered hat with the one-eyed 
spectacle attached to it risen up in my mind. 

Master George had strange peculiarities. One day, while 
he was entertaining a company with amusing talk, which 
kept his hearers in the merriest mood, he suddenly heard a 
clock strike. Master George stopped abruptly in the middle 
of the sentence, jumped to his feet, exclaiming in a solemn 

[32] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
tone: "One hour nearer death." The next moment lie sat 
down and after a short silence continued his talk as merrily 
as before. My father, to whom I described this scene, said thai 
he had often seen Master George do the same; that his mind 
was filled with a presentiment of impending death, and with 
all kinds of thoughts about the hereafter which sometimes 
came suddenly to the surface in this strange way. My friend 
never spoke to me about his dark premonitions. To me he 
disclosed only the cheerful side of his nature and of his 
" philosophy of life," although he never used so pompous an 
expression as this. He frequently endeavored to show me how 
little one requires to be happy in this world, and made his own 
life serve as an example. He was a very poor man, accord- 
ing to the usual understanding of the term. Fate had not 
only refused him favors, but had in a certain sense persecuted 
him. He did not deny that he had within himself the making 
of something better than a mere cobbler, but his parents 
thought they could make nothing else of him. And yet the 
weakness of his eyes had robbed him even of the fitness for 
cobbler's work and he had been obliged to become an errand 
runner in order to earn the daily bread for his wife and 
children. But what would it avail to torment himself with 
dark broodings over that which he might have been and was 
not? The world was a beautiful world even for him, the 
poor errand runner. He had enjoyed the good fortune of 
associating with people who knew much more and were much 
cleverer than himself. And every new idea thus opened to 
him was a new delight. If he thought only of the pleasures 
that life had given, instead of the sufferings that it had in- 
flicted upon him, he saw reason to be content. In fact, all that 
was required for earthly happiness was few wants and a good 
conscience. 

[33] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 

"If," he would say with emphasis, " you are ever over- 
taken by misfortune, or oppressed by poverty, you must think 
of your friend Master George." 

And so I have very often done. The counsel that he 
gave me upon every occasion was always mixed with jests and 
droll descriptions of men and things which never permitted 
the admonitions to become dull sermons. He also endeavored 
to stimulate my ambition by painting to me in glowing colors 
the good fortune of the liberal education which was in store 
for me; and when he spoke of my future career he gave full 
rein to his ardent imagination. 

His presentiment of an early death proved true. My 
good friend did not long survive those days. While I was at 
the gymnasium he died of consumption. I have always kept 
him in warm remembrance. 

The impression of what Master George had said to me 
about religious things was deepened by an occurrence of a 
different nature. 

I fully resolved, so far as a child could make such a reso- 
lution, that when I studied it would not be for the ministry. 
True, among the Roman Catholic population of the lower 
Rhine country, a family that counted a priest among its mem- 
bers was proud of the distinction. But this was mainly the case 
with the women of our home circle ; the men were more or less 
affected by the free-thinking spirit of the age, and my uncle 
Ferdinand, the Voltairian, even went so far as to indulge in 
bold jests and scoffings upon religious subjects. This jarred 
upon me painfully. It seemed to me audaciously wicked to 
speak in flippant words about things which I had been taught 
in church, and at my mother's knee, were high and holy. My 
father, who, as already mentioned, had read his Voltaire and 
Rousseau and been influenced by them, never fell in with that 

[34] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
tone of talk. On the other hand, he made no effort to hold me 
by means of counteracting influences to strict adherence to the 
faith. From the pulpit as well as in private religious instruc- 
tion I had repeatedly heard the priest say that the Catholic 
religion was the only saving one, and that all of different 
belief — Protestants, Jews and heathen — were hopelessly 
doomed to everlasting hell-fire. There was not a single Prot- 
estant in Liblar; in fact, we children could hardly imagine 
what a " Calvinist," as the Protestants were called, was 
like; and when one day a stranger, a Prussian official, passed 
through our village and we heard that he was a Protestant, we 
looked at him with a mixture of pity and fear, and were much 
surprised to find him a man of dignity and agreeable presence. 
How could he be cheerful? we wondered; for, of course, he 
too must know of his doom. There was one Jew in the village, 
a butcher who supplied the neighborhood with meat. In no 
other way did we come into contact with him. But I saw 
sometimes in our house another Jew by the name of Aaron, 
who lived in a neighboring village, and I observed that my 
father always talked with him in a friendly and interested way 
upon various subjects. This astonished me. But my father 
told me that old Aaron, whose face had always appeared to 
me very serious and of great dignity, was not only a very good 
and honest, but also a very enlightened, even a wise, man — more 
honest and virtuous and wise than many a Christian. The 
question whether so good a man as old Aaron must necessarily 
be doomed to eternal hell-fire troubled me very much. I could 
not make this agree with my idea of the all-just God. Soon 
my father read to me Lessing's " Nathan der Weise," setting 
before me the lesson of tolerance which this dramatic poem so 
attractively teaches, and which I most heartily enjoyed, with- 
out being conscious how dangerously those teachings shook 

[35] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
the pillars and undermined the fundamental dogmas of the 
only true church. 

Another event brought further shock. The schoolmaster 
who had succeeded my father had taken some liberties with 
one of the pupils, a relative of ours, and was called to account 
for it. He denied the accusations, and the community soon 
split into two parties: on the one side the schoolmaster de- 
fended by the parish priest, and supported by the count's 
family and a large part of the population; on the other 
our family and friends. The quarrel waxed very bitter, as 
is always the case with such village warfare, and led to vio- 
lent disputes, once even to a bloody riot, which the one con- 
stable of the place was unable to suppress. " There is 
revolution in the village," people said. This was the first time 
that I had heard this fateful word. The priest made himself 
especially conspicuous by repeating slanderous tales about 
members of our family. This went so far that even my 
mother, the gentlest of women, became greatly excited, and 
one day I overheard her tell the priest to his face that he was 
a wicked man and a reckless defamer of character — where- 
upon the clerical gentleman tamely slunk away. To my mind 
the priest, as the vicar of God and the mouthpiece of His 
word, had been a holy man. And now to hear my mother, the 
very embodiment of truthfulness and piety, tell the priest that 
he was wicked, could not but be to me a dangerous revelation. 
It tormented me greatly after this not to be able to listen to 
his Sunday sermons with unshaken faith, and it distressed me 
beyond measure when I stood near him as a choir-boy to see 
him perform the holy office of the mass. But my religious 

observances went on as before. 

The unhappy conflict caused by the schoolmaster episode 

had unforeseen consequences. The schoolmaster indeed had 

[36] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
to quit Liblar, but he left the quarrel behind, and it a fleeted 
the relations between my grandfather and the count, which 
down to this time had been most friendly. Count Wolf 
Metternich was older than my grandfather — a stately and 
stalwart figure over six feet high and unbent by the burden 
of his years; his hair and whiskers silver white and his counte- 
nance most benignant. He was a nobleman of the old school, 
proud to have old servants and old well-to-do and contented 
tenants. The farm-rents were low, and when the crops failed 
the count was always willing to make reductions. On the other 
hand, when the crops were plentiful, he did not at once seize 
the opportunity to advance rents, but rejoiced in the prosper- 
ity of his people. His old business manager, the rent-master, 
as he was called, looked grim and exacting, but he conducted 
affairs in the spirit of his lord. Thus the relation between 
the count and my grandfather had been one of easy-going con- 
tentment on both sides, cemented by the common remembrance 
of the hard times of the " French War," during which the 
count had often been obliged, under the most trying circum- 
stances, to entrust to my grandfather the care of his ancestral 
home. Of course, the difference in the worldly position be- 
tween the count and the halfen was never overlooked. My 
grandfather, according to the ideas of those days, was a well- 
to-do man and could allow himself some comforts and luxuries. 
But I remember hearing it spoken of in the family circle that 
this or that could not be had or done, because the castle people 
might consider it presumptuous and take offense. For in- 
stance, my grandfather could go to town or pay visits in a two- 
wheeled chaise, but not in a four-wheeled carriage; and his wife 
and daughters might wear as pretty caps or hoods as they 
pleased, trimmed with lace ever so costly and even adorned 
with precious stones, but they could not wear bonnets such as 

[37] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
were worn in Cologne. The count when he gave his great 
annual hunt always invited the men of our family. I vividly 
remember the stately old nobleman as he went on foot with 
his company into the forest — he himself in a gray hunting 
coat armed with an out-of-date flintlock gun — for such new- 
fangled things as percussion-caps he would not trust. Upon 
such occasions he treated his guests, whether noble or not, as 
friends. But when my grandfather leased for himself a hunt- 
ing preserve in the neighborhood, to shoot his own hares and 
partridges, it was considered doubtful at the castle whether 
the Burghalfen had not gone a little too far. However, the 
matter was fortunately allowed to remain in doubt. The old 
countess was generally regarded as a very proud lady, but in 
her intercourse with my grandfather's family she always 
showed the friendliest spirit. We children were invariably in- 
vited on Christmas eve to the Christmas tree at the castle and 
presented with gifts, and whenever there was illness in our 
household practical helpfulness as well as genuine concern 
was shown by the count and his family. The count's sons 
were on a friendly footing with the sons of the Burghalfen, 
and on festive occasions they danced right merrily with the 
daughters. 

In this long-established happy relation the quarrel about 
the schoolmaster, in which, I do not know why, the count's 
family took a lively part, sounded like a discordant note. As 
so often happens, when irritated feelings are at play, one 
cause after another bred mutual misunderstanding and dis- 
content. Then the old count died, and soon after the old rent- 
master. The estate passed into the possession of the eldest son, 
and with him began a new regime. The young count was a 
man of a good and kindly character, but the time-honored 
principles in regard to old servants and old tenants were not a 

[38] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
part of his nature, as they had been of his father's. The high- 
bred patriarchal simplicity, so characteristic heretofore of the 
house, seemed to him antiquated and not a little dull. He 
found more pleasure in his English racehorses and his smart 
jockeys than in the fat, heavy bays that had formerly drawn 
the family coach, with a sleepy gray-headed coachman on the 
box. He was not bound to the Burghalfen by any memories 
of the hard French times, and thus their relations gradually 
became merely those of business interest. He appointed a new 
rent-master, a young man with brusk manners and entirely 
unsentimental views of life, and when he explained to the 
count that the income from the estate could be considerably 
increased, the information was by no means unwelcome in 
view of growing expenditures. Under these circumstances the 
breach between the young count and the Burghalfen rapidly 
widened, and finally — the precise particulars I no longer re- 
member — the rupture came, the lease of the estate was can- 
celled and my grandfather, a year or two later, left the Burg. 
There was a public auction of the house and farm-belongings 
lasting several days, which I once attended for a few hours. 
The jokes of the auctioneer sounded harshly offensive to my 
ears and there was a deep resentment in my young heart as 
though a great wrong were being done. My grandparents then 
took a house in the village, but they did not long survive the 
change from the castle. My grandmother died first and my 
grandfather twelve days later. Many tears of heart-felt sor- 
row were shed for them both. 

Meanwhile a great change had taken place with me, too. 
When I was in my ninth year my father thought I had out- 
grown the village school in Liblar. He therefore sent me to 
a school of a somewhat higher order in Briihl, which was con- 
nected with the teacher's seminary there, and was regarded as 

[39] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
a model institution. The schoolrooms were in an old Fran- 
ciscan monastery, and I remember with a shudder the tortures 
to my sensitive musical ear when my father, in order to 
present me to the principal, led me through a long corridor, 
in each window-recess of which stood a young man practising 
finger-exercises on the violin, so that at least a dozen instru- 
ments giving out discordant sounds were to be heard at the 
same time. The instruction I received from the well-equipped 
master was excellent, and at the same time I continued my 
lessons in Latin and my musical studies. I also began to live 
among strangers, boarding during the winter in the modest 
home of a butcher's widow. In the summer I walked to school 
from Liblar to Briilil and back every day of the week — a walk 
of about eight miles. 

And then came a heavy blow. One gloomy winter's day, 
returning from school to my lodging, I found my father 
awaiting me with tears in his eyes. Several times his voice 
failed in attempting to tell me that my brother Heribert, after 
an illness of only a few days, had died. Only the Monday be- 
fore I had left him a picture of health. This was a dreadful 
shock. My father and I wandered home through the forest 
holding one another by the hand and weeping silently as we 
walked. For a long time I could not console myself over this 
loss. Whenever I was alone in the woods I would call my 
brother loudly by name and pray God, if He would not give 
him back, at least to allow his spirit to appear to me. 

Then I felt a want of mental occupation on my lonely 
way between Briihl and Liblar and so I accustomed myself to 
reading while I walked. My father, whose literary judgment 
was somewhat determined by current tradition, counted Klop- 
stock among the great German poets, whom one " must have 
read," and so he gave me the " Messiah " as appropriate read- 

[40] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
ing. To read the whole of Klopstock's "Messiah " is consid- 
ered to-day an almost inrpossible test of human perseverance, 
and there are probably few Germans now living who can boast 
of having accomplished the feat. I am one of the few. On tlie 
long walks between Briihl and Liblar I studied the whole 
twenty cantos, not only with steadfastness, but in great part 
with profound interest. It is true that among the pompons 
hexameters I hit upon many that sounded very mysterious to 
me. I consoled myself with the thought that probably I was 
too young fully to understand this grand creation. Other 
parts really impressed me as transcendentally beautiful. I 
must confess that in the literary studies of my later life I have 
never been able to rise again to this appreciation of Klop- 
stock's greatness. After having finished the " Messiah," I was 
told by my father to learn by heart Tiedge's " Urania " and 
a series of poems by Gellert, Herder, Burger, Langbein, 
Korner and others. Thus I became acquainted with a good 
many products of German literature, and was in point of 
reading well prepared to enter the lowest class of the 
gymnasium. 

Here I must mention an occurrence which in a truthful 
narrative of my life should not be suppressed. My father, who 
loved me dearly and took pride in me, was extremely exact- 
ing in the performance of duty. He examined carefully the 
weekly reports of my teachers and was never satisfied with 
anything short of the best. These reports were always good. 
Only once, tempted by a robber play with my school-fellows, 
I had omitted the learning of the Latin lesson, which 
crime the priest, my teacher, duly recorded. Whether shame 
or fear prevented me from telling my father I do not remem- 
ber, but returning home on Saturday afternoon, I tried to 
make him believe that accidentally the report had not been 

[ 41 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
written. My hesitating manner at once convinced him that 
something was amiss, and a few direct questions brought me 
to full confession. Then the following conversation took 
place: 

" You failed to do your duty and you tried to conceal the 
truth from me; don't you think that you deserve a whipping? " 

" Yes, but do please let us go into the cow-stable, so that 
nobody can see or hear it." 

The request was granted. In the solitude of the cow- 
stable I received my punishment, and nobody knew anything 
about it; but for many a day I carried with me a bitter con- 
sciousness of well-deserved humiliation, and for a long time I 
would not put foot into the cow-stable, the theater of my 
disgrace. 

But my childhood was on the whole sunny and happy, 
and if my memory fondly dwells upon it and I am a 
little diffuse in describing it, I must be pardoned. I consider 
myself fortunate to have spent my early life in the country, 
where one feels himself not only nearer to nature, but nearer 
to his kind than in the confinements and jostling crowds 
of the city. I also consider myself fortunate in having grown 
up in simple and modest circumstances which knew neither 
want nor excessive affluence, and which did not permit any 
sort of luxury to become a necessity; which made it natural 
to me to be frugal and to appreciate the smallest pleasures; 
which preserved my capacity of enjoyment from the misfor- 
tune of being blunted and blase; which kept alive and warm 
the sympathy, that feeling of belonging together, with the 
poor and lowly among the people, without discouraging the 
striving for higher aims. 

Our village was so small that only a few steps led into 
field or forest, and every inhabitant was a near neighbor. 

[42] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
Although, after I could read, my books consumed much of 
my time, I had my full part of the games with the peasanl 
and tradesmen's children in the village, and their faces and 
names are still quite familiar to me. My most intimate friend 
was the youngest of the three sons of a well-to-do merchant— 
a boy of amiable disposition and good parts. We were exactly 
of the same age and pursued the same studies. So we believed 
ourselves destined to walk through life side by side. We sep- 
arated in early boyhood and did not meet again until late in 
life. He had studied law, had served his country with honor 
in the wars of 1866 against Austria and of 1870 against 
France, had risen to the dignity of a major of Uhlans and 
been decorated with the Iron Cross, an order bestowed only for 
personal bravery. After the French war he had been ap- 
pointed a judge in Alsace, and later he retired from that place 
to his native village, an old bachelor in very comfortable cir- 
cumstances. He inhabited a fine house on the very spot where 
many years before the queer old philosopher Krupp had lived. 
Here, in 1889, the dear comrade of my boyhood, now a portly 
man of years, welcomed me and my children who accompanied 
me with radiant heartiness and hospitality. A repast was 
quickly improvised, and when the dear old friend pressed his 
arm around my neck and in his best wine proposed my health, 
our eyes, like our glasses, were full to the brim. 

My father interested himself greatly in the care of ani- 
mals and flowers. Plants and song birds were in every room of 
our house. He taught me how to set snares for the field-fares 
which passed over our country in the autumn, and were re- 
garded as a great table delicacy. Those snares were distrib- 
uted along the hunters' trails in the forest, and I used to go 
before sunrise and again at twilight in the evening into the 
depth of the woods and secure the birds that had been caught 

[43] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
— a form of sport which I confess I no longer approve. In 
these lonely walks, when roe, fox, rabbit and now and then 
a wild boar rustled past me, I learned to love the woods and 
to feel the fascination of the forest-solitude, with its mysteri- 
ous silence under the great leaf -roof and the whisper of the 
winds in the treetops. Soon I cared less for the bird-trapping 
than for the enjoyment of that woodland charm, and even on 
the way to and from school I learned to avoid the highroad 
and to strike into the shade on the right or left, wherever I 
could find a path. This love for the woods has never left me, 
and often in later life, at the aspect of a beautiful spreading 
landscape or of the open sea, I have asked myself whether 
what I had seen and felt in the forest did not surpass all else. 
Summer was for us a period of festivities. Already in 
May occurred the kirmess in land, Ohm Peter's home, and 
late in the autumn the kirmess in Herrig, where Ohm Rey 
lived; and between those there were still a great many more 
kirmesses on the farms of uncles and cousins. To most of 
them the whole family went, including the children. For 
such occasions a two- wheeled chaise was not sufficient. So 
the kirmess-car, an ordinary two-wheeled cart, covered with 
tent cloth and furnished with seats that consisted of wooden 
boards or bundles of straw, was put into requisition, and the 
number of human beings which the kirmess-car could take 
seemed beyond calculation. The horse, or when the roads were 
bad, the horses, shone in their most resplendent brass-orna- 
ments, and the vehicle was decorated with green boughs and 
flowers. We found at the kirmess a crowd of boys and girls 
of our kin, who, like ourselves, during these festive days, 
enjoyed full freedom. At the midday-meals, at which the 
older guests usually spent from four to six hours, we children 
did not sit very long. Only when for the entertainment of the 

[44] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
company a juggler appeared, as for example the great " Ja li- 
chen of Amsterdam," who on the farms of that region enjoyed 
the reputation of being a true sorcerer, we would stand trans- 
fixed until he was gone. Then we ran to the booths on the vil- 
lage street with their honey-cakes, cheap toys and little rou- 
lettes, and in the evening we went " to the music." From the 
dance the older people as well as the children usually retired 
early — the older people to begin their game of cards, which 
frequently lasted until sunrise next day — and the children to 
go to bed. Even this going to bed was a festivity. As the 
house on such occasions always had many more guests than 
beds, a room for the boys was fitted out with straw, blankets, 
linen sheets and pillows laid on the floor. When such a sleep- 
ing apartment was offered to a dozen or more boys as their 
domain for the night, the main frolic of the day began, which 
was continued with boisterous hilarity until one boy after 
another sank down utterly overcome by fatigue. 

To us children in Liblar the greatest day of the year was 
Whitsun Monday, when the annual bird-shooting, ' the 
Schiitzenfest," took place. How grand appeared to me this 
" Fest," which in truth could hardly have been more modest! 
Such excitement! On the Saturday afternoon before Whit- 
suntide five or six men were seen striding through the 
village, bearing upon their shoulders a pole forty or fifty feet 
long, at the point of which a wooden bird was fastened. 
The village youth joined the procession, which slowly moved 
up the street to a meadow shaded by elms and linden-trees. 
The wooden bird was decorated by the children with flower- 
ing broom-twigs, and then the pole was hoisted upon one 
of the trees and lashed to the branches with ropes and chains. 
As this was done by hand, it was hard work not without 
danger. We children always watched it with no little trepida- 

[45] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
tion. I came very near losing my life on one such occasion. 
The pole, having been hoisted up the tree, slipped the rope and 
knocked one of the men from the branch on which he sat. 
Standing just under the tree, I suddenly heard above me the 
crash of a branch and the cry " Jesus Maria! " I sprang away 
to see the body of a man fall exactly upon the spot on which 
I had stood. The poor fellow broke his spine and died shortly 
after he had been carried into the village. Usually, however, 
the raising of the pole passed without accident, and we 
children marched back with bouquets of blooming broom in 
our hands, conscious of having helped in accomplishing a 
great work, and with the anticipation of still greater things 
to come. 

How slow Whitsunday was in passing! But the fun be- 
gan all the earlier on Monday morning. Already at daybreak 
the drummer — an old bow-legged little man — had marched 
through the village, beating the reveille; but it was afternoon 
before the head men of the San Sebastian society — that was 
the name of the sharpshooters-corps, to which belonged almost 
all the grown-up inhabitants of the village, male and female — 
came to our house, where at that time the flag and the other 
treasures of the society were kept, to take them from there to 
the dwelling of the last year's " king." Finally, the procession 
started: first the old drummer with a bouquet of flowers and 
many colored ribbons on his breast and hat; next, bearing 
the flag, Master Schafer, a tailor, white-haired and spindle- 
legged. He was called the " young ensign," because his father 
had before him carried the banner, upon which was painted in 
loud colors St. Sebastianus, the patron-saint, pierced with 
an incredible number of arrows; then the captains, carrying 
ancient spears, also decorated with flowers and ribbons, ac- 
companied by all the solemn-visaged directors of the society, 

[46] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
and then the " Schutzenkdnig " of the previous year. The 
king wore upon his hat a crown of gold tinsel and artificial 
flowers, and around his neck a silver chain, from which were 
suspended silver shields, the size of a hand, with the engraved 
names of the kings of at least a hundred years hack. The 
shields covered the king's shoulders and breast and back, 
giving him a gorgeous appearance. His Majesty was fol- 
lowed by the marksmen, with their rifles on their shoulders, 
the remainder of the population, old and young, bringing up 
the rear. Arrived at the green, the procession marched three 
times around the tree upon which the pole was fastened, 
halted, knelt down and repeated the Lord's Prayer. Then the 
drummer beat the roll, the ex-king hung his crown and chain 
upon the branch of a tree, and after the old men and the 
women members of the society, who could not themselves fire 
rifles, had chosen among the sharpshooters present those who 
were to represent them, the shooting began. The drummer 
watched each shot with close attention, for it was his duty to beat 
a roll every time that the bird was hit. When that roll was par- 
ticularly vigorous the rifleman who had fired the shot re- 
warded the drummer with a glass of wine, and it must be 
confessed that with every glass the good man's face grew 
redder and his drumbeats wilder. The multitude, which mean- 
while had scattered among the booths where sweetmeats, wine 
and beer were sold, crowded again around the marksmen as 
soon as the wooden bird began to splinter. From minute to 
minute the excitement rose; ancient-looking telescopes were 
raised to discover the weak spots on the bird, and the suspense 
became breathless when, as often happened, only a small 
ragged bit of wood remained on the top of the pole and the 
next well-aimed shot might decide the day. Finally, when the 
last bit fell, the drummer beat the most terrible of his rolls, 

[47] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
the crowd, with deafening cheers, pressed around the victor, 
who now, as the new king, was adorned with the crown and 
chain of shields. Then the moment had come for the " young 
ensign " to show what he could do. He swung the flag so 
violently around himself that those standing nearest stepped 
back in alarm ; he waved it over his head and around his breast 
like a wheel, then around his legs, then up and down, back and 
forward, until the veins in his forehead threatened to burst, 
and all this to the accompaniment of the drummer's most pas- 
sionate beats. I always watched him with admiration, con- 
vinced that nothing greater in this line was possible, until, 
alas! one day I overheard an old peasant, shaking his head, re- 
mark: " He is nothing to what the old man was! " Again the 
procession marched three times around the tree and back to 
the village, the drummer at the head, making remarkable zig- 
zags with his bowlegs, the gray-headed " young ensign " still 
waving his colors furiously and the marksmen punctuating 
the triumphal march with occasional blind shots. Happy was 
the boy to whom one of the men was willing to entrust the 
carrying of his rifle, thus allowing him to take part in the 
great event! 

Then came the royal feast at the tavern, at which the new 
king entertained his predecessors in office and the directors of 
the society, with ham, white bread and wine. Finally, in the 
evening followed a dance, the music for which was originally 
furnished by the drum, which in my time, however, had been 
superseded by an orchestra consisting of a violin, clarionette 
and double bass. The reason why this festival remained so 
vivid in my memory, even to the minutest detail, is that it ex- 
cited in me for the first time something like a real ambition. It 
was the great public contest of skill in the arena of the world 
in which I lived; and when I saw the victor with the crown on 

[48] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHUKZ 
his head and the resplendent chain of shields upon his shoul- 
ders and breast, surrounded by a cheering multitude, it seemed 
to me something very great, to which I too some day might 
aspire. And this honor was indeed to come to me in later days 
when I no longer appreciated it so highly. 

Although the summer was thus rich in joy, our winter 
was no less so. It not only brought skating on the castle moat 
and battles with snowballs, but to me the first enjoyment of 
the stage; and of all the joyous excitements of my childhood 
none surpassed that into which we were thrown by the ar- 
rival of the puppet theater in Liblar. With eagerness we boys 
regularly accompanied the crier through the village, who by 
means of a drum brought the people to their doors and an- 
nounced to the honored public the coming of the drama. Oh, 
the fear that I might not be allowed to visit the theater, and 
the impatience until the final moment came! The stage was 
erected in a small dance-hall. The price for front seats ranged 
from one cent for children to five cents for adults. The light- 
ing of the hall consisted of a few tallow candles. But the cen- 
ter of the dark curtain was decorated with a rosette of 
transparent paper in different bright colors, and was lighted 
from behind by a lamp giving a suggestion of marvel and 
mystery. A shiver of expectation crept over me when at last 
a bell rang three times, sudden silence fell upon the hall, and 
the curtain lifted. The stage scenery was arranged in per- 
spective and the puppets were moved from above by wires. 

The first play that I saw was " Die Schone Genovefa." 
It was a splendid piece. The fair Genovefa is the wife of 
Count Siegfried. The count rides to the Holy Land to wrest 
the Holy Sepulchre from the infidels. He entrusts the coun- 
tess and the castle to the care of his castellan Golo, in whom he 
reposes absolute confidence. Hardly has the count ridden 

[49J 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
away, when Golo conceives the plan of making himself master 
of the castle and of marrying the fair Genovefa. She repels 
him with disgust. The wicked Golo then locks her into a dark 
dungeon and orders his man-at-arms to kill her. This the 
servant promises to do, but moved by pity he leads her 
out of the dungeon into a great lonely forest after telling 
Golo that the murder has been accomplished. The fair Geno- 
vefa lives upon herbs and berries and finds shelter in a cave. 
Here she gives birth to a child, a boy, the son of Count Sieg- 
fried, Avhom she calls " Schmerzenreich " — dolorosus. Fearing 
that both she and the boy will starve to death, the poor mother 
fervently prays to God for help, and behold! a doe appears 
and provides them both with milk. Every day the doe re- 
turns and Schmerzenreich grows up to be a strong boy. Sud- 
denly Count Siegfried arrives from the Holy Land to the 
dismay of the wicked Golo, who had been hoping that his 
master would be killed in the far-away country. 

The castle folk at once recognize the count; Golo turns 
over the castle to him, and tells him that Genovefa is dead. 
The count is very sad. He goes into the forest to hunt, and 
happens to see a doe, which leads him to the cave. Husband 
and wife are reunited and the whole truth comes to light. 
Mother and child are taken back in triumph to the castle, and 
the horrid Golo is condemned to die of hunger in the same 
dungeon into which he had cast the fair Genovefa. 

The puppet show had other plays, one — the great 
warrior-prince " Eugene " — a heroic drama in which great 
battles were fought and whole rows of paper Turks were 
shot down. And then a fairy play with every kind of mar- 
velous transformation and other surprises. All these things 
were very pretty, but to my mind they could not be com- 
pared to the fair Genovefa. The impression that this play 

[50] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
made upon me was simply overpowering. I wept hoi tens 
at the leave-taking of Count Siegfried from his wife 
and even more over their reunion, and could hardly re- 
strain a cry of delight when husband and wife returned 
to the castle and the wicked Golo met his well-deserved 
fate. I do not believe that ever in my life at a play was my 
imagination so active and the effect on my mind and emotions 
so direct and overwhelming. This doll with a plume on its hat 
was to me the real Count Siegfried; that one there with the 
red face and black beard the real treacherous Golo; this one 
with the white gown and the yellow hair the beautiful Geno- 
vefa, and the little red thing with the wriggling legs a real 
live doe. The impression was the same when I saw the play a 
second time. I knew the whole story and how it was to 
end; but when the count took leave of his wife and departed 
for the Holy Land I could hardly refrain from calling out 
to him not to go, for if he did, something terrible was sure to 
happen. How happy that naive condition of childhood in 
which the imagination surrenders itself so unresistingly, with- 
out being in the least disturbed by the critical impulse! 

But this faculty of naive enjoyment received with me 
an early and a vicious shock. When I was about nine years 
old I saw for the first time live human beings on the stage in a 
play called " Hedwig, the Bandit Bride," by Korner. It was 
played in Bruhl by a traveling company. The chief character, 
that of the villain RudoLph, was acted with all the teeth- 
gnashing grimaces customary on a little provincial stage. 
But as I still took this to be the genuine thing, it did not 
fail to make a strong impression, although not nearly as 
strong as that at the puppet-show when the fair Genovefa was 
played. I began to criticise, and this inclination received a 
tremendous impulse when in the company of my father I saw 

[51] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
this " Bandit Bride " for the second time. In the last act, ac- 
cording to the text, Hedwig, the heroine, has to kill the villain 
by hitting him a vigorous blow on the head with the butt of a 
gun while he is crouching over a trapdoor. On the Briihl stage 
this, however, was changed: Hedwig was to shoot the villain 
instead of striking him. When the actress who played this 
part pointed her weapon and tried to fire, it refused to go off 
and gave only a faint click. The villain remained in his bent 
posture over the trapdoor, hoping every moment to be killed. 
Hedwig again pulled the trigger, but in vain. The poor 
woman looked around utterly helpless. In the audience there 
was the deepest silence of expectation. Then from behind the 
side-scene came the order, in that loud stage-whisper which 
can fill an entire house: " Bang him on the head with the butt; 
bang him quick!" Whereupon Hedwig with slow delibera- 
tion reversed the gun and struck the man who had been so 
patiently awaiting death a leisurely blow upon the head. He 
rolled over, the audience burst into uncontrollable shrieking 
laughter, in which the dead villain, lying upon the stage, 
could not refrain from joining. In the audience the merriment 
would not cease. But as for me, I would far rather have cried; 
the occurrence fairly stunned me. With it ended that com- 
plete surrender to illusion which had given me so much joy. It 
failed me, at least until I was fortunate enough to behold ar- 
tistic performances of a higher order; and this happily came 
soon during my schooltime at the gymnasium in Cologne. 



[52] 



CHAPTER III 

I WAS ten years old when my father took me to the gym- 
nasium at Cologne, usually called the " Jesuit Gymnasium," 
although it had no connection with that religious order. In 
those days Cologne had about ninety thousand inhabitants, 
and was, as I supposed, one of the finest cities in the world. 
My grandfather had taken me there several years before on 
a visit, and well do I remember the two things that then inter- 
ested me most : the cathedral tower with the huge crane on top, 
and the convict chain-gangs sweeping the streets — sinister- 
visaged fellows in clothes striped dark gray and yellow, with 
heavy iron chains on their feet that rattled and clanked dis- 
mally on the pavement stones, one or more soldiers standing 
guard close by, gun in hand. I remember also how my grand- 
father reproved me for taking off my cap to everybody whom 
we met in the streets, as was the custom in our little village at 
home; for he said there were so many people in Cologne that 
were one to attempt to bow to them all there would be no time 
left for anything else ; that one could never become acquainted 
with all those persons, and many of them were not worth know- 
ing; and finally, that such deference on my part would mark 
me at once as a country boy and make me appear ridiculous. 

This " making myself ridiculous ' was something I 
greatly dreaded, and I would have taken any pains to avoid it ; 
yet it happened that my first appearance at the gymnasium 
was an occasion of amusement to others and of mortification 
to myself. In the schools at Liblar and Briihl we had been in 
the habit of using slates for our arithmetic and dictation exer- 

[53] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
cises. Not dreaming that a slate was incompatible with the 
dignity of a ten-year-old pupil at the gymnasium, I carried 
mine under my arm into the class-room and thus unwittingly 
exposed myself to the scoffs and giggles of the boys, not one of 
whom I knew. There was a loud burst of laughter when one 
boy shouted: "Look at that fellow; he has got a slate!' I 
should have liked to reply to this remark with my fists, but 
just at that moment the instructor entered, and all was 
respectful silence. 

My scale of living at Cologne was, of necessity, ex- 
tremely modest. Board and lodging had been provided for 
me by my parents at the house of a locksmith. I slept in the 
same bed with the locksmith's son, who was also a mechanic, 
and took my meals at the family table with the journeymen 
and apprentices. Severe decorum was exacted of all; the mas- 
ter led the conversation, and only the foreman occasionally 
took part in it. I had no social intercourse whatever with per- 
sons of good education outside of school; but within school 
many helpful influences surrounded me. 

At the present day the question "What should be the 
course of study in an educational institution of the rank of a 
gymnasium? " is being much discussed. This I shall return to 
later. But the question what the course of study should be 
seems to me by no means the only important, nor even the 
most important, one. What we learn in school is naturally but 
little, only a small portion of that which we have to learn for 
fruitful activity in after life. It is therefore of especial con- 
sequence that the things learned in school, whatever they may 
be, should be taught in such a manner as to awaken and en- 
courage in the pupil the desire and enjoyment of learning 
more, and to enable him to seek and find for himself the means 
of further instruction, and to use them to the greatest possible 

[54] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CAR] SCHURZ 
advantage — in one word, that the pupil in school should learn 
how to learn. This requires not only appropriate methods of 
teaching, but also individual ability of the teachei to judge of 
the capacities of his pupil, to put those capacites into a< tivit) 
and to guide and inspire them. And just in these respects J 
was uncommonly fortunate in my years at the gymnasium. 

The head master of the lowest class was, in my time, a 
young Westphalian, Heinrich Bone, whom I remember with 
especial gratitude. At a later period he became widely known 
as a teacher of exceptional ability. He instructed us not only 
in Latin, but also in German; and he strictly held to the prin- 
ciple that clearness and directness of expression are the funda- 
mental requisites of a good style. Instead of wearying his 
pupils with dry grammatical rules, he gave them at once short 
compositions to write, not upon subjects like 'The Beauty 
of Friendship," or " The Uses of Adversity," but simple de- 
scriptions of things actually seen — a house, a group of people, 
a picture, and the like. He required these compositions to be 
rendered in the simplest possible sentences, without any com- 
plication or ornament. The most important rule, however, 
which he enforced with especial emphasis was this: every noun, 
every adjective, every verb, must express some object or some 
quality, or some act perceptible to the senses. All that was 
vague or abstract or not perceptible to the senses was at first 
severely forbidden. In this manner he accustomed his pupils to 
see clearly whatever was before their eyes, and then to set forth 
the impression received in words so concise and clear-cut that 
their meaning was unmistakable. 

When we had attained a certain degree of efficiency in 
this very simple exercise, we were allowed to enlarge the form 
of our sentences, but only for the purpose of presenting more 
clearly and fully some vivid picture. Thus we were led step 

[55] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
by step to the construction of some complicated periods. 
Narrative compositions followed the descriptive ones, the 
teacher's requirement still being the utmost clearness of ex- 
pression; and not until the pupil had proved himself compe- 
tent to grasp and to present the actual, the sensually 
perceptible, was he permitted to indulge in abstractions and 
reflections. This method taught us not only to form correct 
sentences, but to exercise the faculty of correct observation, 
which, strange to say, is developed in a comparatively small 
number of people. 

The fundamental idea underlying this method, applicable 
to all instruction, is that the principal aim of teaching should 
be to fit, equip and stimulate the mind of the scholar with a 
view to independent action. Herein lies the secret of all suc- 
cessful mental education. This is the way to learn how to 
learn. To be sure, the pursuit of this method demands teach- 
ers of ability and thorough training, to whom their calling is 
something more than a mere routine business. 

I count it among the special favors of fortune in my life 
that such a man as Professor Bone continued to be my princi- 
pal teacher in the three lowest classes of the gymnasium. The 
instruction I received from him in the class room was supple- 
mented by frequent private conversations, for I was among 
those favored with his personal friendship. My first little 
composition attracted his attention and won his approval. I 
vividly remember my proud satisfaction when once he read 
one of my writings to the class. He invited me to visit him in 
his quarters. At that time he was occupied in compiling a 
reader, to be used at the higher institutions of instruction, and 
for this book he himself wrote a series of little descriptions and 
stories, as illustrations of his method. Several of them he read 
to me and asked me, probably to assure himself of the impres- 

[56] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
sion made upon the simple mind of a pupil, to criticise them, 
which privilege I exercised with frankness. He did me tin- 
honor of putting two or three of my little compositions, with- 
out essential change, into his book, as examples of his rules 
faithfully followed. From the thirty-fifth edition of Bone's 
" Lesehuch," received by me from Germany some years ago, T 
will quote one of them as illustrating the principles fixed by 
him for the beginner. It is a " Hunting Scene." 

" The mountains and meadows were covered with glistening snow. 
The sky shone red with the rising of dawn. I saw three huntsmen stand- 
ing under a tall oak. The large branches on the tree bore a heavy weight 
of snow ; the small twigs sparkled with icicles. The huntsmen were clad 
in light green jackets, adorned wth shining buttons. At their feet lav 
a large stag; its red blood colored the white snow. Three brown dogs 
stood beside the dead body, their tongues hanging quivering out of their 
mouths." 

In turning the pages of this reader, many delightful 
evening hours passed with my teacher arise in my memory. 
In many of those conversations he sought to guide my 
reading and especially to make me acquainted with the 
beauty of old German poetry. He also encouraged me to 
read historical works. I possessed Becker's Universal His- 
tory. This I read from beginning to end, and reread what 
had especially interested me. Through the extracts given in 
Becker's work I first became acquainted with Homer. Those 
extracts in fluent prose stimulated my desire to learn more 
of that poet so much that I procured the translation of the 
' Iliad " and the " Odvssev," bv Johann Heinrich Voss. 
Never until then, and I believe never since, has poetry moved 
me so tremendously as in the great passages describing Hec- 
tor's leave-taking from Andromache at the city gate, when 
the hero lifts little Astyanax upon his arm and invokes the 

[57] 



TKE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
gods for him; or the prostration of old King Priam in the 
tent of Achilles as he implores the cruel victor for the dead 
body of his heroic son; or the meeting of Odysseus and Nau- 
sikaa, and the departure of the god-like sufferer from the 
house of the Phaiakian king, when Nausikaa, sad and bashful, 
hides behind a column and gazes after the departing stranger; 
or, after the terrible battle with the suitors, the meeting of 
Odysseus with the faithful Penelope, or the scene where the 
returning hero reveals himself in the garden to his old, sorrow- 
stricken father, Laertes. The reason why these scenes moved 
me so much more deeply than the descriptions of the bat- 
tles in the " Iliad " and the fabulous adventures in the 
" Odyssey," although these, too, were most fascinating, I 
only learned to appreciate later; it is because they touch within 
us the purely human feeling which depends neither on time 
nor place; which is neither ancient nor modern, but universal 
and eternal. 

After reading Homer in translation I began to long im- 
patiently for the study of Greek, and the ease with which I 
acquired that language afterwards, was undoubtedly due to 
my desire to meet Homer in the full beauty of the original 
form. 

Of course I was early introduced to the kings and to the 
republican heroes and sages of Roman history, and learned, 
through my own experience, to appreciate how greatly the 
study of a language is facilitated by studying the history of 
the country to which it belongs. This applies to ancient 
tongues as well as to modern. When the student ceases to look 
upon the book which he is translating as a mere pile of words 
to be brought into accord with certain rules of grammar ; when 
that which the author says stimulates him to scrutinize the true 
meaning, relation and connection of the forms of expression 

[58] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
and the eager desire to learn more of the story or the argument 
urges him on from line to line, and from page to page, then 
grammar becomes to him a welcome aid, and not a mere 
drudgery, and he acquires the language almost without know- 
ing how. 

I fully experienced this when under Bone's guidance 
I read Cornelius Nepos and Cresar's Gallic wars, and still more 
in translating Cicero's Orations. Most of these appear to the 
student at first rather difficult. But if he begins each time by 
examining the circumstances under which the oration was 
delivered, the purpose it was to serve, the points upon which 
special stress was to be laid, and the personalities which were 
involved in the proceeding, he will be imperceptibly hurried 
along by the desire to discover with what representations and 
arguments, what attacks and defenses, what appeals to rea- 
son, honor, or passion, the orator has sought to carry his cause, 
and the quickened interest in the subject will soon overcome 
all the linguistic difficulties. I remember that, so stimulated, 
I usually exceeded in my translations the task set to me for 
the next recitation, and, besides, by this zealous reading a 
sense was created for what I may call the music of the lan- 
guage, which later greatly helped me in the idiomatic construc- 
tion of my Latin compositions. 

Professor Bone ceased only too soon to be my teacher, for 
his extraordinary capacities attracted wide attention outside of 
the gymnasium, and he received a call to undertake the direc- 
torship of an educational institution founded by some Rhenish 
noblemen for the education of their sons. He left the gym- 
nasium in compliance with this call. I did not see him again 
for many years. When traveling in 1888 through Germany 
I heard from an old school fellow that Bone, in failing health, 
had retired to Wiesbaden. I resolved at once to seek him out. 

[59] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
I found him living in a very modest house, the interior of 
which looked almost like a convent — for Bone had always been 
a devout and strict Roman Catholic. An elderly nun-like 
person ushered me into a small parlor hung with pictures of 
saints and adorned with crucifixes. She carried my card into 
an adjoining room, from which instantly issued a cry of 
delight; and the next moment, dragging himself hurriedly 
along, my good old teacher appeared. Time had changed him 
from a vigorous young man into a shriveled, fragile little 
body, clad in a long dressing gown, his feet in large gray felt 
slippers, and a black skull-cap covering his thin white hair. 
We embraced, and the dear old man seemed beside himself 
with joy. 

' There, I knew I was right," he exclaimed : " I heard 
that you had come to Germany, and I was sure that if 
you went to see the great people in Berlin you would certainly 
also come to see me. I recognized your voice at the front door ; 
yes, yes, I knew it at once, although I have not heard it for 
more than forty years." 

We sat down close together, and there was much ask- 
ing and answering of questions. His eyes shone with pleasure 
when I told him that I had sent to Germany for the 
latest edition of his reader; that I had often explained to 
my children and friends the method by which he taught me how 
to write German, whereupon he reminded me of our even- 
ings in Cologne and how he had liked me as a boy, and so forth. 
Thus a few delightful hours slipped by. When finally I rose 
to go, he exclaimed: 

' What, not going already ! We must have a glass of 
wine together. Good heavens! there isn't a drop of wine in 
the house. What shall I do?" 

Then he added, thoughtfully: 

[60] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CART, SCHURZ 

"I have some excellent stomach bitters; shall we drink 
one another's health in bitters? " 

I was quite content. The bottle was taken from the cup- 
board, the black liquor poured out, we drank one another's 
health in stomach bitters, and the glasses rang. Another em- 
brace, and we parted never to meet again. 

But to return to my school days. The quiet life of the 
first years in Cologne was not without its excitements. Two 
occurrences of this time made a deep impression upon me. My 
daily walk to school led past the great Cathedral, which, now in 
its finished state the admiration of the world, looked in those 
days much like a magnificent ruin. Only the choir had been 
nearly finished. The great central part between the choir and 
the towers stood under a temporary roof and was built partly 
of brick. One of the two towers was not more than some sixtv 
feet above the ground, while the other, surmounted by the 
famous century-old crane, had reached perhaps three or four 
times that height. The tooth of time had gnawed the medieval 
sculptures on the walls and arches and turrets, and the whole 
hoary pile, still unfinished, yet decaying, looked down, sad and 
worn, upon the living generation at its feet. 

One morning when I was wending my accustomed way to 
school I saw fall from the top of the crane tower an object 
which looked like a cloak, and from which in its descent some- 
thing detached itself and floated away in the breeze. The cloak 
shot straight down and struck with a heavy thud upon the stone 
pavement below. The passers-by ran to the spot; the cloak 
proved to contain a man, who, without doubt, had sought his 
death by jumping down. He had fallen upon his feet, and lay 
there in a little heap; the bones of the legs had been pressed 
into the body ; the head, encircled by a fringe of gray hair, was 
much disfigured; the face, pale and distorted, was that of an 

[61] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
elderly man. The object which had floated away in falling 
proved to be a wig. When the winds had played with it for 
a while it settled down quietly beside its dead owner. 

This shocking spectacle filled my mind with uncanny im- 
aginings. I made every effort to discover who the unfortunate 
man was, and what the cause could have been to drive him to 
such desperation ; but' all rumors were uncertain and contra- 
dictory. Then fancy conjured up to my mind all possible 
turns of fortune and conditions of life which could drive a 
human being into self destruction — hopeless poverty; lost 
honor; disappointed affections; torments of conscience — and 
soon my head was filled with plots of stories or tragedies, all 
of which ended with the self-destructive plunge from the 
cathedral tower. 

Another tragic scene which agitated my mind in a similar 
way is photographed upon my memory. A young man in 
Cologne had murdered his sweetheart and been condemned 
to death. The execution, by the guillotine— for the left bank of 
the Rhine was still under the " Code Napoleon " — was to take 
place at dawn of day on a public square between the Cathedral 
and the Rhine, and before the eyes of all who might choose 
to witness it. The trial had excited the whole population to a 
high degree ; now the people looked forward to the final catas- 
trophe with almost morbid interest. My locksmith guardian 
was of the opinion that neither he nor I should miss the op- 
portunity of beholding so rare a spectacle. Long before sun- 
rise he awoke me, and together we went to the place of execution 
in the gray morning light. We found there a dense crowd, 
numbering thousands, of men, women and children; above 
them loomed the black scaffold of the death machine. Deep 
silence reigned; only a low buzz floated over the multitude 
when the condemned man appeared on the scaffold, and then 

[62] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
all was silence again. My sturdy locksmith held me up in his 
arms, so that I might look over the heads of the crowds in 
front. The unfortunate culprit stepped forward; the assistant 
of the executioner strapped him to a board which extended 
from his feet to his shoulders, leaving his neck free; the vic- 
tim glanced up at the ax, suspended from a cross beam; the 
next instant he was pushed down so that his neck lay under the 
gleaming blade; the ax fell like a flash of lightning, severing 
the head from the shoulders at a whisk. A stream of blood 
spurted into the air, but the hideous sight was quickly concealed 
from the gaze of the public by a dark cloth. The whole deed 
was done with the rapidity of thought. One scarcely became 
conscious of the terrible shock before it was over. A dull mur- 
mur arose from the onlooking throngs, after which they silently 
dispersed; the scaffold was taken down and the blood on the 
ground covered with sand before the first rays of the morning 
sun shone brightly upon the Cathedral towers. I remember 
walking home shuddering and trembling, and finding it im- 
possible to eat my breakfast. Nothing could have induced me 
to witness another execution. 

The good locksmith was an enthusiastic play-goer, and al- 
lowed me sometimes to accompany him to the theater — to be 
sure only on the topmost gallery, where a seat cost five groschen 
(twelve and a half cents). The theater of Cologne occupied, 
as I learned later, in the world of art a very respectable place. 
To me it was a dream of the marvelous and magnificent. I 
was beside myself with astonished delight when, for the first 
time, I saw, before the lifting of the curtain, the painted 
ceiling over the auditorium part in the middle and through 
this mysterious opening a brilliantly lighted chandelier slowly 
descend, the ceiling thereupon closing again. The performances 
I witnessed also moved me powerfully. 

[63] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
Indeed I did not follow them with the same naive illusions 
with which I had lived through the adventures of the fair 
Genovefa; but what I saw in the theater in Cologne was on so 
much higher a level that I could surrender myself again to 
full enjoyment. Thus I saw one or two knight dramas, popu- 
lar at the time; also " Wallenstein." These pleasures did not 
come in rapid succession, for frequent visits to the theater could 
hardly have accorded with the principle of economy that gov- 
erned my locksmith as well as myself. But the drama took 
profound hold upon me, and what I saw of it created an almost 
irresistible desire to write a play myself. I searched through 
Beckers' Universal History for a good subject, and finally fell 
upon the Anglo-Saxon King Edwy, who ruled in England 
in the middle of the tenth century and who brought upon him- 
self, through his love for the beautiful Elgiva, a struggle 
with Saint Dunstan, and an unhappy fate. It seemed to me 
that if I took some liberties with history, as dramatic poets not 
seldom do, this subject — a royal lover battling with the power 
of the church — might be capable of being worked up into a 
fine tragedy. Of course the play as I wrote it amounted to 
nothing ; but in weaving the plot through successive scenes, and 
in writing out some of the dialogues, I enjoyed the full bliss 
of literary creation. Never to have tasted this delight is never 
to have known one of the greatest joys of life. 

Lyric poems and ballads also figured among my " early 
works." One of my ballads originated in this wise: Under 
a clump of tall trees not far from the castle at Liblar were 
some crumbled ruins of masonry that had an uncanny look. 
Nobody seemed to know their history. Imagination pictured 
to me a variety of possibilities, out of which I wove a romantic 
tale. The Knights of the Gracht had on this spot kept wild 
animals in a big pit. A beautiful maiden had somehow got 

[64] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
into this pit and had heen rescued by a noble youth after a 
heroic fight with the monstrous beasts. This adventure, not 
very original to be sure, I worked up in pompons eight-line 
stanzas, the sound of which delighted me so much that 1 could 
not refrain from sending a copy of my poem to my father. 
He, even prouder of it than I, hastened to show the verses to 
Count Metternieh. The count, who probably took little in- 
terest in any kind of poetry, pronounced them fine, but said 
that he had never heard of this occurrence as a part of his 
family history — which did not surprise me in the least. 

At prose, too, I tried my hand. Once, after having written 
a composition on " Schiller's Maid of Orleans," which struck 
me as especially good, I found it difficult to resist the ambitious 
desire of seeing myself in print. I made a clean copy of the 
composition and carried it to the office of the Cologne Ga- 
zette,, with a letter addressed to Levin Schiicking, a well- 
known novelist of the time, and the literary editor of that 
great journal. In my letter I begged the privilege of a per- 
sonal interview-. A courteous answ r er fixed the day and hour 
of my visit, and soon I stood, with loud heart-beats, at the 
great man's door, who, so I believed, held my literary future 
in the hollow of his hand. I found in him an amiable gentle- 
man, with pleasant features, and large, blue, benevolent eyes. 
He received me very kindly, talked upon a variety of subjects 
and finally returned my manuscript to me with the remark 
that it contained much that was excellent, but that I would 
do well to regard it only as a " study." I departed completely 
crushed with disappointment and mortification; but after all 
I lived to become sincerely grateful to good Mr. Schiicking 
for his timely counsel. Much that I have since written has, 
in pursuance of his sound advice, been quietly treated as a 
" study " by myself. 

[65] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
When I had reached the " Tertia " of the gymnasium, 
fortune favored me again by bringing me into close relations 
with another admirable instructor, Professor Piitz, who had 
become distinguished as the compiler of excellent historical 
text-books. He could not boast of great historical researches 
made by himself, but he possessed a rare skill in exciting the 
interest of the pupils in the subjects of instruction, and in 
pointing out the way to further studies. His method of teach- 
ing history was to devote the greater part of the hour to a 
presentation, in free speech, of the particular period with 
which he wished to make us familiar. He enlivened his subject 
by exhibiting it in a variety of lights and by adding sufficient 
detail to make his lecture not only instructive, but also dramatic 
and picturesque, arid thus easily remembered. 

In the next lesson the pupils were expected, whenever 
called upon, to reproduce, out of themselves, in their own 
language, what they had learned in the previous lessons, the 
short recitals of the hand-book serving as a framework to 
the historical structure. From time to time the professor 
would deliver a comprehensive discourse, grouping together 
the events of certain historic periods, and thus giving us bird's- 
eye views over wide fields. In this way history was impressed 
upon our memory as well as our understanding, not in the 
form of tabulated statements or columns of figures, nor merely 
by means of anecdotes, but in panoramic views and prospects 
full of life and philosophical light. To me, the class lesson and 
the study connected with it, for which I had always an espe- 
cial liking, became, instead of hard, dry labor, a genuine joy 
which could not repeat itself too often. It was largely owing 
to these methods of instruction that, when a few years later at 
my final examination Professor Piitz asked me whether I 
thought I could from my memory describe the conquests of 

[66]' 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
Alexander the Great and draw a map thereof on the black- 
board, I felt myself able to undertake the task, and accom- 
plished it satisfactorily. 

Soon after I had become his pupil Professor Piitz drew 
me nearer to him, and something like relations of confidential 
friendship grew up between us. He had traveled much during 
his long vacations, had seen many foreign countries and made 
acquaintance with many remarkable personalities. Thus lie 
had widened his mental horizon beyond the limits of that of 
the ordinary teacher of the gymnasium. There was something 
cosmopolitan in his conceptions, and in regard to theological, 
as well as political things, he passed for a man of advanced 
ideas. 

In addition to history, he also taught us German composi- 
tion, and as in my writings he discovered something akin to 
his own views, he treated me almost like a young comrade, 
whom he permitted in his presence to forget the schoolboy 
for the moment. He liked to tell me about his travels and 
about the social and political institutions and affairs of the 
world; and when our conversation turned upon church and 
state, he talked not seldom with a certain touch of ironv, which 
was to make me understand that in his opinion many things 
ought to be different from what they were. He also encour- 
aged expressions of opinion on my part, and it gave him 
pleasure to see that I had thought of this and that which was 
not just within the circle of a schoolboy's ideas ; and when, so en- 
couraged, I gave expression to my boyish criticisms of existing 
conditions, he would sometimes listen with an approving smile, 
at the same time remarking that we might talk unreservedly 
between ourselves, but that it would be advisable for us to be 
more circumspect in conversation with others. 

In other ways also he enlarged my horizon. From his 

[67] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
private library he lent me several volumes of Goethe and of 
works of writers of more recent times. Even foreign litera- 
tures he opened to me; he gave me, for instance, the transla- 
tions of Shakespeare by Schlegel and Tieck, which I devoured 
with avidity, and he made me acquainted with Cervantes and 
Calderon. He also taught me some Italian, and read with me 
the " Prisons " of Silvio Pellico in the original, and parts of 
Tasso and Ariosto in translation. Thus he disclosed to me a 
new world; and I think of him with gratitude, as one of the 
benefactors of my youth. It was a great pleasure to me to meet 
Professor Piitz again in later life. It must have been in 
1873, when I was a member of the Senate of the United States, 
that I received one day, by European mail, a package con- 
taining a letter from Professor Piitz, with some printed 
pages. " I have frequently corrected your tasks," he wrote, 
" and now you have to correct mine." Then he informed me 
that he was preparing a new edition of his historical hand- 
books, and wished to have my judgment about that part 
which treated of the latest events in America. And this he 
laid before me on the proof sheets that accompanied the letter. 
With pleasure I complied with his request, and found his work 
so correct in every detail that it did not call for the slightest 
amendment. On my next journey to Germany I sought him 
out in Cologne. He had retired from his office, and lived in 
comfortable surroundings. I found him, to be sure, very much 
aged, but still young in spirit. Our meeting was a hearty joy 
to us both, and we celebrated it with a delightful supper. 

When I entered the higher classes of the gymnasium the 
influence of youthful friendship came powerfully into my life. 
I gave up my quarters at the locksmith's because there was 
no piano there for daily practice, and moved into more suitable 
lodgings. It now became possible for me to receive visitors 

[68] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
and to lead a somewhat freer life. Among my schoolmates \ 
always had friends of my own age, but none whose endeavors 
and ambitions accorded much with my own tastes. Now I 
became acquainted with a circle of youths who, like myself, 
wrote verses, and read them, and encouraged each other in 
the study of literature. The two with whom I came into 
closest intimacy were Theodore Petrasch, the son of a secre- 
tary of the provincial government, and Ludwig von Weise, a 
descendant of a patrician family of Cologne. Petrasch was 
an uncommonly bright youth of a most amiable, cheerful 
and exuberant nature. Weise, while possessing excellent abil- 
ities and a strong character, had developed rather the critical 
than the productive faculties of his mind. Both discussed 
political, as well as religious, subjects with far more free- 
dom and assurance than I had dared to do, and their liberal 
utterances had already attracted the notice of the gymnasium 
authorities. Petrasch had been called to account by the in- 
structor of religion and had made certain heretical confes- 
sions with such frankness that the shocked schoolmaster sus- 
pended him from all religious observances until a new light 
should break in upon him, and he invited him to further talks 
upon sacred subjects. 

To me, questions of religious faith had for some time 
caused many hours of most serious reflection. I have already 
narrated how in earliest childhood my belief in the everlasting 
punishment of the heterodox, and in the infallibility and moral 
perfection of the priesthood, had been severely shaken. Since 
then I had pondered much upon kindred subjects, and the time 
had now come for me to be " confirmed." In preparation for 
this rite, the Roman Catholic priest, our instructor, especially 
indoctrinated us in the tenets of the church. I threw myself 
into this study with an earnest desire to overcome all doubts. It 

[69] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
even seemed to me at times that this had been accomplished, 
and I went through the act of the " First Communion " in a 
state of religious exaltation. But very soon the old scruples 
and doubts returned stronger than before. What was most 
repugnant to me was the claim of the church to be not merely 
the only true church, but also the only saving one, and that 
there was absolutely no hope of salvation outside of its pale, 
but only damnation and eternal hell-fire. That Socrates and 
Plato; that all the virtuous men among the heathen; that even 
my old friend, the Jew, Aaron; nay, that even the new-born 
babe, if it happened to die unbaptized, must forever burn in 
unquenchable fire — yes, that I too, were I so much as to har- 
bor the slightest doubt concerning their terrible fate, must 
also be counted among the eternally lost — against such ideas 
rebelled not only my reason, but my innermost instinct of jus- 
tice. Such teachings seemed to me so directly to contradict the 
most essential attributes of the all- just Deity, that they only 
served to make me suspicious of other tenets of the creed. 
High authorities in the church have indeed not maintained 
teachings so extreme, but assigned to unbaptized, innocent 
infants and to virtuous heathen after death a mysterious state 
intermediate between heaven and hell. Yet certain it is that 
the religious teachings of my youth held to the immoderate 
tenets I have described, thus enforcing with a rude and relent- 
less logic the dogma of original sin and the necessity of infant 
baptism. What a blessing it would have been to the church and 
to all within reach of its influence, if, not only some, but all of 
its teachers had opened its whole heaven, with the full counte- 
nance of God, not only to its believers, but to all innocent and 
virtuous human souls. 

I was distressed beyond measure. Often I prayed fer- 
vently for light, but in answer to my prayers only the old 

[70] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
doubts came back. I went to my teacher of religion and 
confided to him the condition of my mind with perfect frank- 
ness. We had a series of conversations, in which, however, he 
had little to say to me that I had not heard before. I confessed 
to him with the utmost candor, that while I should be glad 
to be convinced by what he said, he had not so convinced me; 
whereupon I also was relieved of the obligation of attending 
religious observances until I myself felt an urgent desire to 
resume them. I zealously studied ecclesiastical history and 
dogmatic writings, and availed myself of every opportunity 
to listen to preachers of renown; but the longer and more 
earnestly I continued those studies the less could I find my 
way back to the articles of faith which were so repugnant to 
my sense of justice. There remained, however, within me a 
strong religious want, a profound respect for religious thought. 
I have never been able to listen to a light-minded scoffer about 
religious subjects without great repugnance. 

While my friends could not tell me much that was soothing 
on religious topics, they opened to me vistas in German litera- 
ture^ — especially the political part of it — which were new and 
fascinating. Of Heine, my teacher, Professor Piitz, had told 
me, but I knew of him little more than his name; of Freiligrath, 
only a few of his pictures of the tropics; of Gutzkow, Laube, 
Herwegh, and so on, nothing at all. 

Petrasch lent me Heine's " Book of Songs." This was to 
me like a revelation. I felt almost as if I had never before 
read a lyric poem; and yet many of Heine's songs sounded 
to me as if I had always known them, as if the fairies had 
sung them to me at my cradle. All the verses that I myself 
had written until then, and which were mostly of the declama- 
tory kind, went at once into the fire, and I saw them burn with 
genuine relief.. The reading and the rereading of the " Book 

[71] 



•- 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
of Songs " was to me an indescribable revelry. Then I read 
the pictures of travel, the various political poems, and " Atta 
Troll," with its acrid political satire, the wit of which did 
not do good to the heart, but sharply turned one's thoughts 
upon the condition of the fatherland. I read also with my 
friends the poems of such revolutionary stormers as Herwegh, 
Hoffmann von Fallersleben and others, most of which we 
possessed and circulated among us only in written copies. 

The revolutionary passions expressed in many of those 
poems were in fact foreign to us, but their attacks upon the 
existing governments, especially upon the Prussian, struck a 
responsive chord which easily reverberated in the breast of every 
Rhinelander. Our Rhine country, with its gay, light-hearted 
people, had, within a comparatively short period, passed 
through a series of multi-colored experiences. Before the 
time of the French Revolution it had been under the easy- 
going, loose rule of the Archbishop Electors; then, conquered 
and seized by the French, it belonged for a time to the French 
Republic and the Empire. At last, after the French wars, it 
was annexed to Prussia. Of these three rulerships, following 
one another in too rapid succession for any sentiments of 
allegiance to take firm root, the Rhine folk liked the Prussian 
rule the least, although it was undoubtedly the bestAThe ab- 
rupt, stiff, exacting character of Prussian officialdom, with 
its rigid conceptions of duty and order, was uncongenial to 
the careless and somewhat too pleasure-loving Rhenish people. 
Besides, the population was throughout Roman Catholic, and 
the word Prussian was synonymous with Protestantism. Prus- 
sian officers in considerable numbers came to help govern the 
Rhine people, which of course created bad blood! All these 
things made Prussian rule on the Rhine appear like a sort 
of foreign rule, which was very repugnant to the feelings of the 

[72] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
natives. In the course of time they recognized that the- honest, 
orderly methods of administration by the Prussian officers 
possessed great merit; but the spirit of opposition, charac- 
teristic of the Rhenish population, once aroused, could not be 
easily overcome. The word Prussian served for an opprobrious 
invective, and when one schoolboy flung it at another it was 
difficult to find a more stinging epithet to fling back. All 
this was to become entirely changed in consequence of the 
revolutionary movement toward national unity in 1848; but 
at the time when I was a student at the gymnasium the hatred 
of Prussia was still in fullest flower on the banks of the 
Rhine. 

We young people were indeed free from provincial, and 
especially religious, narrowness of sentiment, but we shared 
the prevailing impression that great changes were necessary, 
that it was scandalous to withhold from the people the free- 
dom of speech and press; that the old Prussian absolutism 
must yield to a new constitutional form of government; that 
the pledges made to the German nation by the German princes 
in 1813 had been shamefully violated, and that the disinte- 
grated fatherland must be molded into a united empire with 
free political institutions. The fermenting restless spirit per- 
meating the minds of the educated classes, and finding expres- 
sion in the literature of the dav, aroused in us bovs the warmest 
enthusiasm. By what means the dreams of liberty and unity 
were to be accomplished — whether, as Herwegh advised in one 
of his poems, which we all knew by heart, we were to tear the 
iron crucifixes out of the ground and forge them into swords, 
or whether there was a peaceable way of reaching the goal — 
we were not at all clear in our thoughts. But we eagerly read 
newspapers and pamphlets to keep ourselves informed of the 
occurrences and tendencies of the day. Neither could we alto- 

[73] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
gether refrain from occasionally uttering our sentiments. 
I was in the Upper Secunda when our professor of German 
— it was no longer my friend Piitz — gave us, as the subject 
of a composition, a memorial oration on the battle of Leipzig. 
Believing it to be my duty to write exactly what I thought 
about that event, I expressed with entire frankness my feel- 
ings about the ill-treatment the German people had suf- 
fered after their heroic efforts on that battlefield, and my 
hope of a complete regeneration of the German fatherland. 
I was profoundly in earnest. I wrote that memorial oration, 
so to speak, with my heart's blood. When the professor, at one 
of the next lessons, returned the papers to us in the class room, 
with critical remarks, he handed mine to me in silence. It 
bore this footnote: " Style good; but views expressed nebulous 
and dangerous." After the adjournment of the class he called 
me to his side, put his hand upon my shoulder and said, " What 
you wrote has a fine sound; but how can such things be al- 
lowed at a royal Prussian gymnasium? Take care that it does 
not happen again." From that time on he refrained from 
giving subjects to the class which might tempt us to political 
discussion. 

In the meantime I continued zealously my literary studies, 
and my creative impulses were constantly stimulated by the 
applause of intimate friends. I wrote a large number of short 
poems, and also some tragedies on historic subjects. No rec- 
ord of these sins of my youth have remained in existence to 
embitter my subsequent life — or perhaps also to contribute to 
its merriment. We are easily ashamed of our premature pro- 
ductions and of the sublime conceit that must have inspired 
them. But I cannot look back without a certain feeling of 
tender emotion upon the time when I surrendered myself to 
those poetic impulses with the hope, certainly with the desire, 

[74] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CAR I. SCHURZ 
to give in the eourse of time, to my fatherland, something 
valuable and lasting. 

It is needless to say that these literary efforts absorbed 
much of the time that should have been devoted to other studies. 
In the first years at the gymnasium I had always received, in 
the semi-annual examinations, the highest marks. I sacrificed 
these to my literary work, inasmuch as in some brandies of 
instruction, especially in mathematics and natural science, I 
did only what was rigorously exacted of me. 

My life outside of school was simple in the extreme and 
afforded me every opportunity to practise the virtue of 
frugality. My pocket-money allowance was very small; some- 
times I had none at all; neither can I remember ever to 
have asked my parents for any money. They thought of it 
themselves and put a pittance into my pocket when, after my 
vacation, I returned to Cologne, or when they visited me there. 
Frequently I managed to get along for weeks with the sum 
of five groschen (twelve and a half cents). The occasional 
possession of a thaler (seventy-two cents) gave me the sensa- 
tion of wealth. Even when I had nothing, which sometimes 
happened, I never felt poor. This mental habit, acquired early 
in life without much reflection, has subsequently proved of 
great value to me. It has spared me much heart-burning. I 
have always had to associate with persons possessing more 
than myself of the so-called good things of life — persons that 
could allow themselves many enjoyments that I had to do 
without. To this I accustomed myself, and I did it without 
the slightest self-depreciation or envy. Among all human 
passions envy is the one that makes a man the most miserable. 
Of course I do not mean by envy the mere wish to possess de- 
sirable things which we see others possessing, for such wishes 
are legitimate and not foreign to the noblest ambition. The 

[75] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
envy I speak of is that jealous ill-will which begrudges others 
what they possess, and which would destroy their enjoyment 
of ifSA long life has convinced me that the truest and most 
beautiful happiness of the human soul consists in the joyous 
contemplation of the happiness of others. The envious, con- 
sciously or unconsciously, wish to deprive others of that which 
makes them happy; and this is, of all imaginable dispositions 
of the mind and heart, the most wretched. Education can 
render young people no better service than to teach them how 
to make their pleasures independent of money. This is far 
easier than we commonly suppose. It requires only that we 
learn to appreciate the various good things which cost nothing 
and some of which are offered by almost every environment. 
In this way we discover how many enjoyments there are in 
life which usually remain hidden to those who are in the habit 
of purchasing their pleasures with silver and gold. 

Although during my boyhood my means were extremely 
limited, my opportunities for enjoyment, even in aesthetic direc- 
tions, were by no means few. I have already told how I 
went to the theater, not very often, but finding all the more 
pleasure in it the few times I could go. There were other 
opportunities no less valuable. On Sunday mornings some- 
times I spent hours in the Walraff Gallery, some rooms of 
which were filled with pictures of the old Cologne school. 
Although I was then unable to appreciate their historic and 
artistic value, they attracted me greatly by their splendor 
of color and naivete of composition. Particularly I recall a 
" Last Judgment," in which the humorous grimaces and sar- 
donic smiles of a number of fantastic red, blue, and green 
devils amused me immensely. For many an hour I stood in 
dreamy contemplation before the ' Sorrowing Jews on the 
Waters of Babylon," by Bendemann, a celebrated painter of 

[76] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
the Diisseldorf school. As is usual, the boy in me was first 
fascinated by the subject of the picture, until repeated scru- 
tiny gradually stirred my critical faculty and developed my 
taste as to composition and execution. 

Nor were opportunities for musical delight wanting. On 
Sunday morning the so-called " Musical Mass " was celebrated 
in the cathedral, at which frequently the archbishop officiated 
and the church displayed its splendor. The principal charm of 
the service was the music, which attracted not alone the devout, 
but also the art-loving public. A full orchestra and a choir of 
selected voices rendered a Mass by some celebrated composer. 
These performances were sometimes of singularly marvelous 
effect. I have already mentioned that the cathedral at that 
period resembled a ruin as to its exterior. This was also true 
in great measure of the inside. Upon passing through the time- 
worn portals into the middle nave one was confronted at a 
distance, just be3^ond the transept, by a bare, gray wall shutting 
off the choir from the rest of the cathedral ; this was the back 
of the great organ, placed temporarily in this position be- 
cause the choir was the only really completed portion of the 
edifice. The organ therefore stood, so to speak, with its back to 
the larger part of the church. On the platform in front of the 
organ, facing the choir, were placed the orchestra and the sing- 
ers. Thus the people standing in that part of the church 
between the back of the organ and the portals heard the music 
not directly, but as an echo wonderfully broken. The forest 
of pillars and the arches high as heaven, carried it back as from 
a far distance, aye, as from another world. It was a mysterious 
waving and weaving and surging and rolling of sound; the 
violins and 'cellos, and flutes and oboes, like the whispering 
and sighing of the spring winds in the treetops; the trumpets 
and trombones and the mighty chorus now and then like the 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
roaring of the storm and the raging of the sea. Sometimes 
the echoes seemed to be silent for a moment and a melody or 
a succession of harmonies would ring clear through the im- 
mense space; or a soprano solo would detach itself from the 
magic confusion and float upon the air like an angel's voice. 
The effect was indescribably touching, and I remember how, 
not seldom, I stood leaning against one of the gigantic col- 
umns and something like devout tremors passed over me, 
and my eyes filled with tears. This, I thought, must be what 
I had heard called the " Music of the Spheres," or the " Con- 
cert of the Children of Heaven," as I had seen depicted on 
the old canvases of the WalrafF Museum. 

Sunday noon afforded still another treat. A part of the 
garrison paraded on the Neumarkt, and its excellent band 
played martial strains for the changing guard, afterwards en- 
tertaining the public with a well-selected programme. Their 
repertoire being large, these military concerts helped not a 
little to increase my musical knowledge. 

The talks with my much traveled friend, Professor Piitz, 
together with books on architecture lent by him, excited in me 
an interest in ancient and mediaeval architecture, and many 
happy hours were spent in studying the middle-age structures 
of religious and secular character of which Cologne is justly 
proud. My artistic studies were therefore by no means incon- 
siderable, although I had to confine myself to such as were 
accessible without cost. 

Free afternoons were usually passed with my friends. 
Besides reading aloud, we philosophised together on every- 
thing above and below with that gravity characteristic of 
young, ardent and somewhat precocious persons. Sometimes 
I went to my uncle's house at Lind, a half -hour's walk from 
Cologne, to visit two cousins of about my own age. They were 

[78] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARE SCHURZ 
dear comrades. As they were not to prepare themselves for 
any learned profession, but were to be farmers, like their 
father, I had not so many interests in common with them as 
with my other friends; but they were boys of mental activity, 
excellent disposition and chivalrous spirits, and we amused 
ourselves together to our hearts' content. When the weather was 
bad we now and then resorted to a game of cards. And here, 
in order to be entirely faithful to truth, I must mention an 
occurrence which will prove that my youth was by no means 
free from serious blemish. 

At first we played cards merely for the sake of passing 
time. Then as the taste for it grew, we staked small sums of 
money to increase the interest and excitement, which it did most 
effectually. The stakes were very small indeed, but the chang- 
ing fortune in winning and losing stimulated the gambling 
passion until finally a catastrophe occurred. One particular 
afternoon I happened to have the money in my pocket with 
which to pay my tuition fees, which were due in a few days. 
I lost steadily in the game and was so carried away that at last 
I took out of my pocket the money entrusted to me by my 
parents. Of course, with it I expected to Avin back all that I 
had lost. We played on feverishly, but luck would not turn, 
and at last the entire sum of the tuition fee was swept away. 
It amounted only to a very few thalers, and my cousins helped 
me out of my immediate embarrassment; but my horror at 
what had happened was so great, my consciousness of guilt 
so painful, and the sense of mortification so acute — for I con- 
sidered myself, and with reason, to be a criminal — that the 
inward suffering of those days, especially when I made a con- 
fession to my parents, has ever remained in my memory as a 
terrible lesson. I had gone through a very serious experience 
with myself. In playing for stakes the desire to win money 

[T9] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
had really not been my impelling motive, but the evil fascina- 
tion which the demon of fortune always possesses had led 
me to commit an act which, committed under less favorable 
circumstances, and upon a larger scale, might have ruined 
my character irretrievably. Card-playing for money is often 
classed among the aristocratic passions; but I believe there is 
no form of amusement which, when it becomes a real passion, 
is so dangerous even to nobly cast natures. It was perhaps 
very fortunate in my own case that this lesson came so early 
in life and appeared in so drastic a shape. 

Gay days we had during our summer vacations at home 
in Liblar. A crowd of cousins from various places found them- 
selves together, reinforced by friends from Cologne. That was 
the time for merry pranks, which, as it seemed, gave as much 
pleasure to the old members of the family as to the young. 
One occurrence of my vacation life has remained especially 
vivid in memory. In a German village the " studying ' boy, 
as he is called, is always regarded with interest and wonder, 
and upon the occasion of his visits family and friends are apt 
to take a pardonable pride in displaying his attainments. So 
it was with me. My father, who could not produce much effect 
upon his villagers with my Latin and Greek, took great de- 
light in showing off my musical proficiency, especially my 
ability to improvise. He succeeded in persuading the old or- 
ganist, a feeble musician, but one free from all artistic jeal- 
ousy, to allow me to play a voluntary at the Sunday morning 
service. Once on a festive day when Count Metternich and 
his family occupied their private chapel attached to the church, 
and the congregation happened to be exceptionally large, I 
felt it incumbent upon me to do something extraordinary. So 
at the close of the mass I pulled out all the stops and played a 
military march that I had heard at one of the parades at Co- 

[80] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
logne with such effect that the departing congregation stood 
still in astonishment. Even the count stepped out from Ins 
chapel to see what was the matter. This was the climax of 
my musical career as an organist, which soon came to an ab- 
rupt end. One Sunday at vesper service I accompanied the 
choir, consisting of the sacristan and four other singers. It 
was the organist's custom to play a short interlude between the 
alternate verses of the hymn. This gave me an opportunity 
to give my faculty of improvising full swing. Beginning in 
the key in which the hymn was being sung, I moved up a tierce, 
intending to return to the original key by means of a bold 
transition. But the sacristan and the choir were not accus- 
tomed to such antics. They resumed their song in the higher 
key, shrieking themselves red in the face until the veins of their 
foreheads and temples threatened to burst. At the close of the 
service the sacristan declared with unmistakable emphasis that 
he would have no more improvising and thorough bass; that 
this nonsense must stop, and that for his part he liked the 
old organist far the better of the two. Thus was my glory as a 
performer on the organ in Liblar forever gone. 

In another field an ambitious wish of mine found its 
fulfillment. I became a member of the Sanct Sebastianus So- 
ciety, and resolved to take part in the annual bird-shooting. 
Having learned very early how to handle a rifle, I had myself 
inscribed in the list, and offered to several members, male and 
female, to shoot for them; and the offers were accepted. The 
casting of bullets on the Saturady before Whitsuntide was 
one of the most solemn acts of my life; and when I woke with 
sunrise on Whitsun Monday I felt as if for me a day of great 
decision had dawned. I have already described the different 
features of that popular festival. With profound seriousness 
on this occasion I marched behind the old bow-legged drummer 

[81] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
and the master-tailor, our color-bearer, in the ranks of the 
marksmen to what my heroic enthusiasm called " the field of 
honor " ; and when, after marching three times around the 
tree bearing the pole with the wooden bird, we knelt down for 
prayer I was one of the most devout. Not one of my first shots 
missed. The bow-legged drummer rewarded me with the cus- 
tomary roll, and I suspect I sometimes looked around with eyes 
that sought admiration. Only one shot more was mine, but the 
wooden bird was already much splintered, and with every 
moment it became more uncertain whether my last chance 
would yet be reached. My heart beat high; my last turn was 
really reached, and on the top of the pole there was only a 
little strip of wood left which a well-aimed bullet would surely 
bring down. I raised the rifle to my shoulder with the feeling 
as if this shot would determine the current of my future. With 
a mighty effort I kept cool, so that my eye should be clear and 
my hand firm. But when I had pressed the trigger I felt 
myself as if in a dense fog; I only heard how the drummer 
furiously belabored his instrument and how the surrounding 
multitude shouted. The great deed, therefore, was done. I had 
" shot down the bird." I was king. Not far from me stood 
my father; he laughed aloud and evidently was extremely 
proud. Now the great chain with the silver shields was put 
upon my shoulder, a tall hat with the old tinsel crown and 
flowers on top was fixed upon my head. It was a great mo- 
ment; but I had won the prize merely as a substitute for an- 
other person, not for myself. Who was that person? A Sanct 
Sebastianus sister, an old washerwoman. She was brought 
forward and also adorned with ribbons and flowers. I was 
obliged to offer her my arm as my queen, and so we marched 
solemnly behind drum and flag back into the village. The 
riflemen made every possible noise with their guns; the chil- 
es] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
dren shouted, and the old people stood in their doorways, 
greeted me with their hands, and called out: " Sec the Schurz 
Karl!" But I felt as if we two, the old washerwoman and 
myself, presented a decidedly grotesque spectacle in thai tri- 
umphant procession, which in my imagination had always been 
such a solemn affair. I thought I even saw some people in- 
dulge in a mocking smile about our unquestionably ridiculous 
appearance. But worse than this — I noticed on the faces of 
some of the old marksmen something like an expression of 
disapproval; my ear caught a remark that it was, after all, 
not quite proper to make the Schiitzenfest of the venerable 
old Sanct Sebastianus Society a boy's play. I could not deny 
within myself that this view of the case was not unjustified; 
and thus in the hour of that triumph which I had so often 
pictured in my dreams, a heavy drop of bitterness fell into 
the cup. It was the old, old experience, at that time still new 
to me, that we seldom are blessed with success or joy without 
some bitter admixture, and that the fulfillment of a wish 
usually looks very different from anticipation; and this expe- 
rience has been repeated in my life again and again. 

In the meantime dark clouds were gathering over our 
home. My grandfather's retirement from the Burg had been 
followed by evil consequences; it was as if the firm ground 
had been taken from under our feet. The proceeds of the 
sale of the inventory had been entrusted to my youngest uncle 
for investment. He groped about for a considerable time and 
finally hit at the idea of trading in grain. In connection with 
this plan my father, who was in need of a larger income than 
his little hardware business yielded, decided to erect a building 
of which the ground floor was to be a large amusement hall 
and the upper story a granary. In one of his many books he 
had read the description of some new method of construction 

[83] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
which caught his fancy and which had the charm of novelty. 
The building was successfully erected, but it cost far more 
than had been anticipated. It appeared also that the festive 
occasions proved too few to make the letting of the amuse- 
ment hall profitable, and the granary yielded even less. My 
uncle's grain business soon became highly speculative and he 
promised himself mountains of gold from it. When he drifted 
into embarrassment, of course his brothers and brothers-in-law 
came to the rescue, thus involving themselves also in affairs 
of which not one of them had any knowledge. My uncle 
Jacob, the burgomaster of Jiilich, had indeed good qualities 
as a merchant; he was painstaking, orderly and exact, but 
the quick calculation of chance, the instinct of the trader, 
he, too, lacked entirely. So with my father; he was far more 
interested in his scientific books than in his ledger. Often I 
recall seeing him at his desk with a disorderly pile of papers 
before him and a helpless, impatient expression on his face. 
Sometimes he would then rise abruptly, push the papers into 
the desk, crowd them down with both elbows, and drop the 
lid upon their wild confusion. The various members of our 
family came to one another's financial assistance so often that 
after a little while not one of them knew accurately the con- 
dition of his own or of their common affairs. To bring order 
out of chaos they would occasionally meet at Liblar for the 
purpose of talking over business matters and " settling up." 
But this would have required the saying of many disagree- 
able things from which each in his amiability and brotherly 
affection recoiled. By way of beginning they would sit down 
together to a comfortable repast and recall happy bygone 
times; gradually the proposed business conference faded out 
of view; they ate and drank and were so happy together that it 
would have been a pity to disturb all by alluding to unpleasant 

[84] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
subjects. After this had gone on for a day, or even a few 
days, they remembered that it was high time for them to return 
home; then they took leave in the most touching manner, kissed 
one another, sometimes even shedding tears at the parting, and 
each one went his way without having talked of the business 
matters which had brought them together. Of course their 
affairs drifted from worse to worse, and some further daring 
grain speculations only served to hasten on the final disaster. 

My father was not directly implicated in those specula- 
tions, but he could not keep from getting entangled in the 
difficulties which sprung from them. Although youth is in- 
clined to take matters of business lightly, I became gradually 
aware that my parents were often in pressing need of money, 
and I began to share their anxieties. I myself raised the ques- 
tion whether it would be possible for them to keep me any 
longer at the gymnasium. This was quickly answered by my 
obtaining a fellowship which covered a large part of my ex- 
penses; and besides I resolved to tutor junior pupils, thus 
earning the rest of the money needed. I threw myself into 
this new task with eagerness. The tuition fees amounted to 
about six and a half cents per hour, but they were sufficient to 
enable me to work my waj r up to the highest class but one. 

Suddenly my parents were cheered by apparently more 
hopeful prospects. My father found an opportunity for sell- 
ing his property in Liblar at a price which would enable him 
to discharge his obligations and furnish the means for a new 
livelihood. As soon as the sale was concluded he removed with 
the family to Bonn, where I was to go to the university after 
having absolved the gymnasium. In Bonn my father made 
arrangements with an old friend which put him in possession 
of a spacious house, the lower part of which was used as a 
restaurant for students, while in the upper stories were several 

[85] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
rooms to be let. My friend Petrasch, who meantime had been 
matriculated in the university, took one of them. All this 
promised very satisfactorily. 

But then a great misfortune fell upon us. The purchaser 
of the property in Liblar, with whom my father had made a 
very imperfect contract, declared that he had become dissatis- 
fied with the arrangement and that he proposed to forfeit the 
little sum paid in advance, and not take the property. This 
was a hard blow. My father tried, unsuccessfully, to hold the 
purchaser to the bargain, and no other purchaser could be 
found. To return to Liblar was impossible, as my father was 
then bound to his new arrangements in Bonn. Now the bills 
of exchange became due, which in anticipation of the money 
coming to him from the sale in Liblar he had given to his 
creditors. He could not meet them; the bills were protested, 
and suddenly I received in Cologne the news that some of the 
creditors had thrown my father into the debtors' prison. This 
struck me like a clap of thunder. I ran to the prison house and 
saw my father behind an iron bar. It was a distressing meet- 
ing, but we endeavored to encourage one another as best we 
could. He explained to me his circumstances, and we consid- 
ered what might best be done to extricate him from this humili- 
ating situation. 

I was then seventeen years old and on the point of passing 
into the highest class of the gymnasium, but evidently I could no 
longer remain in Cologne. I hurriedly took leave of my teach- 
ers and friends, and devoted myself entirely to the affairs of 
the family. My uncles would have been glad to assist us, but 
they themselves were involved in grievous embarrassments. 
Business matters were entirely foreign and repugnant to me; 
but necessity is a wonderful schoolmaster, and I felt as if in 
a day I had grown many years older. After much traveling 

[86] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
to and fro I succeeded in making arrangements sufficiently 
satisfactory to the creditors to induce them to release my 
father. Those were very dark days. 

When my father was thus enabled again to take our 
affairs into his own hands, the question arose, what was to 
become of me. Was I to abandon my studies and enter upon 
a new course of life? This idea was rejected at once; but 
circumstances did not permit my return to Cologne. I had to 
remain with my family. We therefore formed the bold plan 
that I should begin at once as an irregular student to attend 
lectures at the university, and at the same time to pursue those 
studies which would make it possible for me to pass the gradua- 
tion examination in Cologne the next year. This plan was 
bold in so far as it was generally understood that when a young 
man left the gymnasium without having completed the course 
and then came back to pass the examination required for 
regular standing at the university, that examination was often 
made exceptionally severe in order to discourage like practice. 
But there was no hesitation in attempting the difficult task. 
Meanwhile, my mind had also settled upon a calling. I was 
fond of historic and linguistic studies, and believed I possessed 
some literary capacity. I therefore resolved to prepare myself 
for a professorship of history, and so began to attend philo- 
logical and historical lectures. 

, My passing from the gymnasium to the university brings 
me back to the question already mentioned, whether the clas- 
sical curriculum at the German gymnasium, as well as at cor- 
responding institutions in other countries, has not become an- 
tiquated and unpractical. Is it wise to devote so large a part 
of the time and of the learning-strength of boys to the study 
of the Latin and the Greek languages and the classical litera- 
tures? Would it not be of greater advantage to a young gen- 

[87] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
eration to put in place of the Latin and Greek the study of 
modern languages and literatures, the knowledge of which 
would be much more useful in the practical business of life? 
This question is certainly entitled to serious consideration. 
Latin is no longer what it was in most of the countries of the 
so-called civilized world down to the beginning of the eight- 
eenth century, and, in some of them, even to a much more 
recent period, the language of diplomacy, of jurisprudence, 
of philosophy, and of all science. Not even the ability to quote 
Horace in conversation is any longer required to give one the 
stamp of an educated man. The literatures of classical an- 
tiquity are no longer the only ones in which great creations 
of poetry in perfect beauty of form are found, or models of 
historical writing, or of oratorical eloquence, or of philosoph- 
ical reasoning. Of all these things modern literatures contain 
rich treasures, and there is also an abundance of excellent trans- 
lations to make the masterpieces of antiquity accessible to 
those who do not understand the classical tongues. 

And yet, when I now in my old days, and after multi- 
farious experiences of life, ask myself which part of the in- 
struction I received in my youth I would miss with the most 
regret, my answer would not be doubtful for a single moment. 
Indeed, I have, I am sorry to say, lost much of the Latin and 
Greek that I knew when I was at the gymnasium. But the 
aesthetic and moral impulses that such studies gave me, the 
ideal standards they helped me in erecting, the mental horizons 
they opened to me, I have never lost. Those studies are not a 
mere means for the acquisition of knowledge, but, in the best 
sense of the word, an element of culture. And thus they have 
remained to me during my whole life an inexhaustible source 
of elevating enjoyment and inspiration. 

If once more I had to choose between the classical studies 

[88] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
and the so-called useful ones in their place, I would, for mysel f 
at least, undoubtedly on the whole elect the same curriculum 
that I have gone through. I would do this the more readily 
as in all probability I should never have been able to begin or 
resume the classical studies had I not enjoyed them in my 
youth, and as the knowledge of the ancient languages has 
been of inestimable value to me in acquiring the modern ones 
in later life. He who understands Latin will not only learn 
French, and English, and Spanish, and Italian, and Portu- 
guese much more easily, but also much better. I can say of 
myself that I have in fact studied only the Latin grammar 
quite thoroughly, but that this knowledge has divested my 
grammatical studies in modern Latin and Germanic lan- 
guages of all wearisome difficulty. Therefore, while I recog- 
nize the title of the utility argument, now so much in vogue, 
to our serious consideration, I cannot but confess that I per- 
sonally owe to the old classical courses very much that was 
good and beautiful, and that I would not forego. 

To be a student at the university is the most entrancing 
dream of the German gymnasium boy. It had been mine. 
Now I was at the university. But how? As a mere intruder 
who had still to win his right to academic citizenship through a 
difficult examination still to pass; as a person of questionable 
standing hardly relieved of a most humiliating situation, 
troubled by bitter cares, with very uncertain prospects before 
me. Thus it happened to me that what I had hoped for came 
to me in depressing form. The wish could hardly be recog- 
nized in the appearance of the fulfillment. 



[89] 



CHAPTER IV 

ALTHOUGH not yet regularly immatriculated at the 
university at Bonn, I received a warm welcome from a group 
of fine young men, the Burschenschaft Franconia — one of 
that class of students' associations which after the wars of liber- 
ation of 1813, '14 and '15 had been organized at various Ger- 
man universities, in obedience to a patriotic impulse. My ad- 
mission to this fellowship I owed to my Cologne friends, 
Petrasch and von Weise, who had preceded me at the 
university and had spoken a good word for me to their breth- 
ren of the Franconia society, probably with an exaggerated 
account of my literary capabilities. This I discovered upon 
the occasion of my first appearance at the Franconia " Kneipe," 
when it was the evident intention of both my friends to 
make a show of my talents. But I was at that time an 
extremely bashful youth, always silent and awkward in the 
presence of strangers. I shall never forget the feeling of 
utter helplessness that came over me when Petrasch introduced 
me to the presiding officer of the society, Johannes Overbeck, 
a self-poised young man several years my senior, and a bril- 
liant student who had already published a volume of original 
poems. All this I knew and it had impressed me greatly. In 
answer to the friendly greeting he gave me I blushed and 
stammered and only managed to articulate an occasional yes 
or no. I was quite conscious of the sorry figure I was cutting, 
and what was worse, aware that Petrasch and Weise were 
disappointed and ashamed of me. It was the first occasion in 
life when I was brought in contact with men from other parts 

[90] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
of Germany; and they, especially the North-Germans, had 
something superior and deliberate in their ways that greatly 
impressed me. 

My irregular standing at the university did not permit me 
to be received as a full member into the Franconia, but I was 
admitted as a guest to their convivial meetings. For a long 
time I sat a mute spectator at the jovial gatherings of my 
friends, but finally my hour came. One of the principal events 
of the convivial evenings was the reading aloud of the Kneip- 
zeitung, a humorous paper, written and read in turn by dif- 
ferent members.^To write a good Kneipzeitung was the object 
of general ambition, and those papers not seldom possessed 
decided literary merit. As I sat or moved, a quiet observer 
among my friends, abundant opportunit} r was afforded me to 
study the peculiarities of my new companions. My observa- 
tion finally took form in a parody of the " Auerbach cellar 
scene " in " Faust," in which I made the leading members of the 
Franconia the dramatis personcc. The satire was pointed, 
though of course not ill-natured. When I had finished the 
composition I showed it in confidence to Petrasch. He shouted 
with delight, and w r as certain that nothing better had ever been 
written by any member of the society. This of course I refused 
to believe, but yielded to his entreaties that I turn it into a 
Kneipzeitung and that he should be the one to read it aloud at 
the next reunion. I insisted that he keep its authorship strictly 
secret, which he promised. When finally the evening came for 
its presentation my heart was in my throat, and my face red 
with blushes, as the assembled company burst into repeated 
laughter and applause]. The success of the paper was com- 
plete. Petrasch declared that the writer wished to remain un- 
known, but with this the audience would not rest content. Of 
course nobody suspected me. My friend, as proud of the 

[91] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
achievement as if it had been his own, winked at me across the 
table and whispered audibly, "May I not tell? " This alone 
would have been sufficient to betray me, but another member 
sitting near recognized my handwriting. And now there was 
a great hurrah. From all sides they rushed upon me ; there was 
no end of congratulation and handshaking; and Petrasch, 
looking around at the assembled company, called out: " There, 
now, what did I tell you ? " 

It has always been a relief to me that the poetic produc- 
tions of my youth somehow disappeared; but I confess that I 
would like very much to see this one again, for at the time it 
rendered me an inestimable service. Its success aroused my 
dormant self-reliance and transformed me from an awkward 
country lad, who was in a good way to remain a ridiculous 
figure, into a respectable and respected young man. My shy- 
ness rapidly ceased in the intercourse with my comrades, and 
many delightful friendships were the outcome of it all. 

Much time I could indeed not give to my friends during 
my first university year at Bonn, for the graduation examina- 
tions at the Cologne gymnasium, upon which my whole future 
depended, were still ahead, and they ever stood before me like 
a threatening specter. Aside from the historical and philolog- 
ical lectures by Aschbach and Ritschl, which I attended, I had 
to acquire all that was taught in the upper class of the gymna- 
sium by way of self-instruction, and with the exception of 
higher mathematics and of natural science I succeeded in doing 
this, but, of course, not without much labor. ^At last, in Sep- 
tember, 1847, the crisis came, and I journeyed to Cologne, 
accompanied by the prayers of my family and the cordial 
wishes of all good friends. Fortune favored me again, and all 
went well. I knew the sixth canto of the Iliad by heart, and 
it so happened that the examiner in Greek gave me a part of 

[92] 








y 
y 

z 
- 



y. 

- 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
that canto to translate, which I could do without looking al the 
book. In addition to this, the result of my examination in his- 
tory and my compositions in German and Latin were suffi- 
ciently satisfactory to move the examiners to overlook my 
weakness in other branches. Upon the conclusion of the ordeal 
the government commissioner, who had before seemed to me 
the personification of grim fate, handed me my graduation 
papers with an especially cordial handshake, and he gave me 
many good wishes for future success on my way. I returned 
to Bonn in triumph. 

Now at last, as a regularly matriculated student, I could 
take equal rank with my university friends. With ardor and 
with a feeling of assurance I threw myself into philological 
and historical studies, looking with greater calmness into the 
future, in which I pictured myself as a professor of his- 
tory at some German university, devoting some of my time 
to literary work. I hoped that now the severest storms of life 
were behind me, and that I might look forward to a smooth 
career which would satisfy all my ambitions. How little did I 
dream of the strange vicissitudes of fortune which were soon 
to scatter all these plans and to hurl me into currents of life 
entirely different from those which I had anticipated! 

The cheerfulness of temperament with which benign na- 
ture had endowed me and the capacity of frugal enjoyment 
which the conditions of my early youth had developed in me, 
rendered me highly susceptible to the fascination of free 
student-life. Again fortune had greatly favored me in open- 
ing to me at the very entrance into the academic world access to 
a most stimulating circle of young men. 

Friedrich Spielhagen, in his memoirs, says that the Bursch- 
enschaft Franconia was in a sense the most distinguished among 
the student societies of that day. And this it was indeed. To 

[93] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
be sure, it did not count among its members scions of noble 
houses nor men of exceptional wealth. At any rate rank 
and wealth did not count. But its scientific and literary 
tone was marked, and many of its members later made a name 
for themselves in various walks of life. Among these were 
Johannes Overbeck, the archaeologist, of whom it has been said 
that he wrote the best book that has ever been written on Her- 
culaneum and Pompeii, without ever having seen either spot; 
Julius Schmidt, an astronomer, who gave to the world various 
works of great scientific value, and died as director of the 
astronomical observatory at Athens; Carl Otto Weber, of Bre- 
men, a young man of rare brightness of mind and the most 
charming sweetness of character, whose distinguished merit 
gave him a professorship of medicine at Heidelberg, where, 
like a soldier in battle, he died of diphtheritic poison in an heroic 
effort to save a human life; Ludwig Meyer, who became an 
expert in mental diseases and a professor at Gottingen, and 
director of various institutions for the insane ; Adolph Strodt- 
mann, the biographer of Heine, who also excelled as a remark- 
ably able translator of French, English and Danish literature; 
Friedrich Spielhagen, in whom in spite of his somewhat dis- 
tant and reserved character we all recognized a man of rare 
intellectuality and moral elevation, and who later became a 
star of the first magnitude among the novelists of the century. 
There were several other young men of uncommon capacity 
and sound ambition who afterwards rose to honorable if less 
conspicuous positions in life. 

Although in this company there was earnest and hard 
work done, its members were neither priggish nor did they lack 
youthful exuberance of spirits. But these spirits only very 
seldom degenerated into those excesses which usually pass as 
characteristic of German student-life. There were indeed a 

[94] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
few capable of great things in beer-drinking. Bui beer-drink- 
ing was not cultivated as a fine art, in the exercise of which one 
had to seek honorable distinction. Nor would he who was tem- 
perate be exposed to any want of respect or derision. Modera- 
tion was the rule, and he who broke that rule too often made 
himself liable to a reprimand or even expulsion. Neither .lid 
we take part in the practice of dueling, in which various corps 
at German universities sought then as now their glory. I can 
recollect but two cases during my time at Bonn that a member 
of the Franconia fought a duel, and of those we were by no 
means proud. There is probably no civilized people to-day 
except, perhaps, the French, in which enlightened public opin- 
ion does not look upon and condemn dueling as a remnant of 
medieval barbarity. While excuses may sometimes be offered 
in cases of exceptional insult, it is no longer accepted as evi- 
dence of true courage nor as the best means for a man to guard 
or avenge his honor; and the professional duelist who by fre- 
quent encounters creates suspicion that he is wantonly seeking 
an opportunity for a fight wins rather the reputation of being 
a rude if not a criminal ruffian than the renown of a hero. The 
true gentleman has ceased to be ashamed of invoking the law 
for the protection of his own or his family's or friends' honor 
when that honor may need protection; and the world has be- 
gun to suspect the man who for its defense breaks the lav 
instead of appealing to it. Irresistibly this view is becoming 
public opinion among all truly civilized peoples. 

In what light then, in the face of this public opinion, 
does that portion of the so-called educated youth in German 
universities stand, which, not making even injured honor an 
excuse, cultivates the duel as a form of social amusement, and 
finds glory in the number of scars won in causeless combats? 
The precautionary measures customary at German universi- 

[95] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
ties have made an ordinary duel so harmless that usually noth- 
ing more than a mere scratch on the face is the result. To fight 
in this way requires no more courage than to have a tooth 
drawn; perhaps not even so much. As a true test of courage, 
therefore, such a duel cannot be regarded. The cause for it 
mostly consists in nothing but some childish quarrel, wantonly 
brought on for the very purpose of provoking a challenge; 
and the student who in this way disfigures his face with a net- 
work of unsightly scars is truly foolish to think he can pose as 
a braver and better man than others who enjoy their youth in a 
more sensible way during the period when they are preparing 
themselves for the grave problems of life. It is said that the 
duel prevents personal quarrels from degenerating into vulgar 
brawls and fisticuffs, and that the sword is a more dignified 
weapon than the fist. But this defense appears utterly unten- 
able when we look at the universities of other countries, where 
dueling is practically unknown and where common fights are 
as infrequent as they are in Germany. It is also asserted that 
dueling stimulates a nice sense of honor among young people. 
But what kind of honor is this? Is it honorable to fight with- 
out due cause? Is it honorable to treat with contempt those 
who object to dueling about silly nothings? Is not this so-called 
sense of honor mere shallow and rude rodomontade? It is in 
fact nothing but the cultivation of an entirely false standard of 
honor — a self-deception very dangerous to young people, be- 
cause it confuses their moral principles, upon the clearness and 
firmness of which the character of the true gentleman rests, 
l! Such a notion of honor which consists only in cheap show in- 
duces one too easily to forget that the moral courage of a man 
who unflinchingly and unselfishly stands up in the struggle of 
opinions and of interests for that which he recognizes as true 
and right, rises far above all the glories of the dueling-field 

[96] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
and all its pretended heroism. It is a matter of experience that 
not a few of the most bellicose students, devoid of just this 
genuine and higher courage, become the most servile syco- 
phants of power in later life, always parading the scars on 
their faces as proof of their bravery. In this way a class of 
unprincipled climbers has developed itself, which depends in 
the competition for place and promotion, not on its real ability 
and true merit, but on social connections and the protection 
of the powerful, and which thus loses in the matter of character 
what it wins in the way of success. 

Such were the views about the duel held in my time by 
the Franconians, although it is certain that they were not lack- 
ing in sense of honor nor of pride. Their principles, however, 
did not keep them from the fencing school; indeed several of 
them would have been conspicuously able to enforce respect 
sword in hand. I have to confess that I found especial pleas- 
ure in the fencing exercises, and Spielhagen praises me in his 
memoirs " for wielding a deft and powerful blade." 

In other respects we followed the customs and enjoyed 
the pleasures of German student-life to our hearts' content. 
We wore with pride the society colors on our caps and the 
tricolored ribbon across our breasts. We celebrated our 
" commerses " and went through all the traditional ceremonies 
with becoming solemnity. We took long rambles into the coun- 
try — and it was no pedantic affectation, but a real outflow of 
gay spirits that on such occasions some of us who had studied 
our Homer with especial assiduity conversed in homeric verses, 
which somehow we contrived to apply to what we were doing 
or observing. We also indulged in delightful excursions up 
and down the Rhine and into its lovely side-valleys; and 
blessed be the memory of the innkeepers who did not demand 
an immediate settlement of our accounts; blessed above all, 

[97] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
that of the benign Nathan of Sanct Goarshausen, under the 
shadow of the Loreley-rock, who welcomed every Franconian 
under his roof as an own child. Oh, how we reveled in the 
poetry of those friendships, which more than all else made 
youthful years so happy! The mature man should never be 
ashamed of the emotions that once moved him to wind his arm 
around his friend's shoulder and to dream of inseparable 
brotherhood. Thus I shall never be ashamed of the feelings 
which I showed as exuberantly as my companions, whenever 
at the close of the semester some members dropped out of our 
circle never to return, and when at leave-taking our glasses 
rang to the echo of the farewell song: 

" Wohlauf noch getrunken 
Den funkelnden Wein, 
Adc nun Ihr Lichen, 
Geschieden muss sein." 

Even now I cannot listen to this song without a throb in 
my heart, for I see before me the dear fellows as their eyes 
filled at the moment of parting and they again and again 
embraced. Oh, these careless, sunny, university days, with their 
ideals and enthusiasms, their sentimentalities and their felici- 
ties! How soon they were to be overshadowed for me by the 
bitter earnestness of life! 

It was at the beginning of the winter semester of 1847-8, 
at Bonn, that I made the acquaintance of Professor Gottfried 
Kinkel — an acquaintance which for my later years became one 
of fateful consequence. Kinkel delivered lectures on literature 
and art-history, some of which I attended. I also participated 
in his course of rhetorical exercises. This brought me into 
close personal contact with him. He was at the time when I first 

[98] 




PROF. GOTTFRIED KIXKEL 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARE SCHURZ 
knew him thirty-two years of age; the son of an evangelical 
minister stationed in a village on the Rhine, and he himself 
also to be educated for the church. To this end he visited the 
universities of Bonn and Berlin. In the year 1830 he settled 
down at the university of Bonn as a teacher of church history. 
But on account of his health he made a journey to Italy in 
1837, where he gave himself up to the study of the history of 
art. After his return he became assistant preacher of an 
evangelical church in Cologne, where he attracted large con- 
gregations by the eloquence of his sermons. In the meantime 
his poetical gifts, which by personal intercourse with Simrock, 
Wolfgang Miiller, Freiligrath and others had been constantly 
stimulated, had attracted wide attention. Especially his ro- 
mantic epic, " Otto der Schiitz," won for him a prominent 
name in literature. In Cologne he became acquainted with 
the divorced wife of a bookseller, a woman of extraordinarv 
mental activity. While rowing on the Rhine one day Kinkel 
saved her from drowning, the boat having capsized, and soon 
after, in the year 1843, they were married. This union with a 
divorced Roman Catholic woman would alone have sufficed to 
make his position as an evangelical clergyman untenable, had 
it not already been undermined by his outspoken liberal opin- 
ions. For this reason he abandoned theology and accepted a 
position of professor-extraordinary of art-history at the 
university of Bonn. 

As a lecturer he proved himself exceedingly attractive by 
his interesting personality as well as by the charm of his deliv- 
ery. Kinkel was a very handsome man, of regular features 
and herculean stature, being over six feet in height and a pic- 
ture of strength. He had a wonderful voice, both strong and 
soft, high and low, powerful and touching in its tone, gentle 
as a flute and thundering like a trombone — a voice which 

[99] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
seemed to command all the registers of the church organ. To 
listen to him was at the same time a musical and an intellectual 
joy. A gesticulation as natural as it was expressive and grace- 
ful accompanied his speech, which flowed on in well-rounded 
and not seldom poetic sentences. 

When Kinkel offered to introduce his hearers in a special 
course to the art of speech, I was one eagerly to seize the oppor- 
tunity. He did not deliver theoretical instruction in rhetorics, 
but he began at once to produce before us eminent models and 
to exercise our faculties by means of them. As such models he 
selected some of the great rhetorical passages in the dramas of 
Shakespeare, and for me he set the task to explain the famous 
funeral oration of Marc Antony, to point out the intended 
effects and the means by which these effects were to be accom- 
plished, and finally to recite the whole speech. I accomplished 
this task to his satisfaction, and then Kinkel invited me to visit 
him at his house. I soon followed this invitation, and the result 
was the development between teacher and scholar of a most 
agreeable personal intercourse. He possessed in a high de- 
gree the genial unconventionality and the gay temper of the 
Rhineland. 

He delighted to put the professor aside and to let him- 
self go when in the circle of his family and friends in unre- 
strained hilarity. He drank his glass of wine — with moderation, 
to be sure — laughed heartily at a good jest and even at a poor 
one, drew from all circumstances of life as much enjoyment 
as there was in them, and grumbled little when fate was unkind. 
Thus one soon felt at home in his company. He had indeed also 
his detractors, who accused him of being what they called 
" vain." But who is not vain, each one in his way? Vanity is 
the most common and the most natural of all weaknesses of 
character — and at the same time the most harmless and the 

[100] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
most pardonable if it stands under the influence of a sound 
ambition. Whenever it is carried too far it becomes ridiculous, 
and thus punishes itself. 

Mrs. Kinkel was not at all handsome. Tier stature was 
low, her features large and somewhat masculine and her com- 
plexion sallow. Nor did she understand the art of dressing. 
Her gowns were ill-fitting and usually so short that they 
brought her flat feet, clad in white stockings and black slippers, 
with cross-ribbons, into undue prominence. But the impression 
made by her lack of beauty vanished at once when one looked 
into her blue, expressive eyes, and when she began to speak. 
Even then she seemed at first to be neglected by nature, for her 
voice was somewhat hoarse and dry. But what she said almost 
instantly fascinated the hearer. She not only spoke upon many 
subjects of high significance with understanding, sagacity and 
striking clearness, but she also knew how to endow by her pic- 
turesque presentation commonplace things and every-day 
events with a peculiar charm. In conversing with her one 
always felt that behind what she said there was still a great 
wealth of knowledge and of thought. She also possessed that 
sparkling Rhenish humor that loves to look at things from 
their comical side and under all circumstances appreciates what- 
ever there is enjoyable in life. She had received an exception- 
ally thorough musical education, and played the piano with a 
master hand. I have hardly ever heard Beethoven and Chopin 
compositions performed with more perfection than by her. In 
fact, she had passed far beyond the line that separates the 
dilettante from the artist. She had also written some exquisite 
compositions. Although her voice possessed no resonance and 
in singing she could only indicate the tones, still she sang with 
thrilling effect. Indeed, she understood the art of singing with- 
out a voice. 

[101] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
Whoever observed these two externally so different human 
beings in their domestic life could not but receive the impres- 
sion that they found hearty joy in one another and that they 
fought the struggles of life together with a sort of defiant 
buoyancy of spirit. This impression became even stronger 
when one witnessed their happiness in their four children. 

No wonder that Kinkel's house became the gathering 
place of a circle of congenial people, whose hours of social in- 
tercourse left nothing to desire in animation, intellectual 
vivacity and cheerfulness. It was composed throughout of men 
and women of rich mental endowments and of liberal ways of 
thinking in the religious as well as the political field — men and 
women who liked to utter their opinions and sentiments with 
outspoken frankness; and there was no lack of interesting 
topics in those days. 

The revolt among the Roman Catholics caused by the 
exhibition and adoration of the " holy coat " in Trier had 
brought forth the so-called " German Catholic ' movement, 
and had also given a vigorous impulse to the tendency for free- 
thinking and free-teaching among Protestants. Upon the polit- 
ical field, too, there was a mighty stir. The period of polit- 
ical discouragement and of national self -depreciation in Ger- 
many had given place to an impulse to strive for real and well- 
defined goals, and also to the belief that such goals were attain- 
able. Everybody felt the coming of great changes, although 
most people did not anticipate how soon they would come. 
Among the guests of Kinkel's house I heard many things 
clearly uttered which until then were only more or less 
nebulous in my mind. A short review of the origin and devel- 
opment of the feelings with regard to political conditions, 
which at that time prevailed with the class of Germans to 
which he, and, in a more modest way, I belonged, may serve 

[102] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
to make intelligible their conduct in the movements which 
preceded the revolutionary upheavals of the year 1848. 

The patriotic heart loved to dwell on the memories of the 
" holy Roman empire of the German nation," which once, at 
the zenith of its power, had held leadership in the civilized 
world. From these memories sprang the Kyffhauser roman- 
ticism, with its dreams of the new birth of German power and 
magnificence, which had such poetic charm to German youth: 
the legend telling how the old Kaiser Friedrich Barbarossa 
was sitting in a cave of the Kyffhauser mountain in Thur- 
ingia, in a sleep centuries long, his elbows resting on a 
stone table and his head on his hands, while a pair of ravens 
were circling around the mountain top; and how one day the 
ravens would fly away and the old kaiser would awaken and 
issue from the mountain, sword in hand, to restore the Ger- 
man Empire to its ancient glory. While cherishing such 
dreams we remembered with shame the time of the national 
disintegration and the dreary despotism after the Thirty 
Years' War, when German princes, devoid of all national 
feeling, always stood ready to serve the interests and the am- 
bitions of foreign potentates — even to sell their own subjects 
in order to maintain with the disgraceful proceeds the luxuries 
of their dissolute courts; and with equal shame we thought of 
the period of the " Rheinbund," when a number of German 
princes became mere vassals of Napoleon; when one part of 
Germany served to keep the other part at the feet of the hated 
conqueror, and when Emperor Francis of Austria, who had 
been also emperor of the hopelessly decayed empire of Ger- 
many, laid down in 1806 his crown, and German Emperor 
and German Empire ceased even to exist in name. 

Then came, in 1813, after long suffering and debasement, 
the great popular uprising against Napoleonic despotism, and 

[103] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
with it a period of a new German national consciousness. To 
this feeling appealed the famous manifesto, issued from the 
town of Kalisch, in which the king of Prussia, allied with the 
Russian Czar, after Napoleon's defeat in Russia, called the 
German people to arms, promising at the same time a new 
national union and participation of the people in the business 
of government under constitutional forms. The new birth of a 
united German national empire, the abolition of arbitrary gov- 
ernment by the introduction of free political institutions — that 
was the solemn promise of the Prussian king as the people 
understood it — that was the hope which inspired the people in 
the struggle against Napoleonic rule with enthusiastic heroism 
and a self-sacrifice without limit, and ended in a final victory. 
It was one of the periods in history when a people proved itself] 
ready to sacrifice all for the attainment of an ideal. But after 
the victories of Leipzig and Waterloo followed another time of 
bitter disappointment. Against the formation of a united 
Germany arose not only the jealous opposition of non-German 
Europe, but also the selfish ambitions of the smaller German 
princes, especially of those who, as members of the "Rhein- 
bund," such as Bavaria, Wurtemberg, Baden, etc., had been 
raised in their rank. And this opposition was strengthened by 
the intriguing policy of Austria, which, with her possessions 
outside of Germany, had also un-German interests and designs. 
And this Austrian policy was conducted by Prince Metter- 
nich, the prime minister of Austria, to whom every emotion 
of German patriotism was foreign, as he hated and feared 
every free aspiration among the people. Thus the peace 
was far from bringing to the German people the reward for 
their sacrifices which they had deserved and expected. From 
the Congress of Vienna, in 1814 and 1815, which disposed of 
peoples as of herds of cattle in order to establish a permanent 

[ 104] 




FREDERICK WILLIAM III 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
balance of power in Europe, nothing issued for the German 
nation but a treaty of alliance between German states, the 
famous " Deutsche Bund," the organ of which was to be the 
' Bundestag " ; and this organ was to be composed of the rep- 
resentatives of the various German kings and princes, without 
any vestige of a representation of the people. There was 
no mention of any guarantee of civic rights, of a popular 
vote, of a free press, of the freedom of assembly, of a trial by 
jury. On the contrary, the " Bundestag," impotent as an 
organ of the German nation in its relations to the outside 
world, developed itself only as a mutual insurance society of 
despotic rulers — as a central police board for the suppression 
of all national and liberal movementsJ The king of Prussia, 
Frederick William III., the same who had made the prom- 
ises to the people contained in the proclamation of Kalisch, 
had probably in the days of distress and of national uprising 
honestly meant to do what he promised. But his mind was 
narrow and easily disposed to consider autocratic authority 
on his part as necessary for the well-being of the world. Every 
effort among the people in favor of free institutions of gov- 
ernment appeared to him as an attack on that absolute author- 
ity, and therefore as a revolutionary transgression; and the 
mere reminder on the part of the people of his own promises 
made to them in 1813 was resented by him as an arrogant self- 
assertion of subjects, and as such to be repelled. Thus he be- 
came, perhaps unconsciously, the mere tool of Prince Metter- 
nich, the evil genius of Germany. The outcome was a period of 
stupid reaction, a period of conferences of ministers for the 
concoction of despotic measures, of cruel persecutions of patri- 
otic men whom they called demagogues, of barbarous press- 
gagging, of brutal police excesses. In some of the small Ger- 
man states some advance was made toward liberal institutions, 

[105] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
which, however, was usually followed by more odious measures 
of repression on the part of the Bundestag. Such were the re- 
turns for the sacrifices and the heroism of the German people 
in the struggle for national independence ; such was the fulfill- 
ment of the fair promises made by the princes. It was a time 
of deepest humiliation. Even the Frenchmen, who had felt 
the edge of the German sword, derided, not without reason, 
the pitiable degradation of the victor. 

Hope revived when Frederick William III.'s son and 
successor, Frederick William IV., ascended the Prussian 
throne in 1840. He was regarded as a man of high intelligence 
and had, as crown-prince, excited fair expectations. Many con- 
sidered him incapable of continuing the stupid and sterile pol- 
icy of his father. Indeed, the first utterances of the new king 
and the employment of able men in high positions encour- 
aged the hope that he harbored a national heart, in sympathy 
with the patriotic aspirations of the German people, and that 
the liberal currents of the time would find in him appreciative 
understanding. But fresh disappointment followed. As soon 
as the demand was publicly made, that now at last the old 
promises of a representative government should be fulfilled, 
the king's attitude changed. These demands were bluntly re- 
pelled, and the censorship of the press was enforced with 
renewed severity. 

Frederick William IV. was possessed of a mystical faith 
in the absolute power of kings " by the grace of God." He 
indulged himself in romantic imaginings about the political 
and social institutions of the Middle Ages, which had for him 
greater charm than those befitting the nineteenth century. 
He had sudden conceits, but no convictions; whims, but no 
genuine force of will; wit, but no wisdom. He possessed the 
ambition to do something great and thus to engrave his name 

[106] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
upon the history of the world ; but he wished at heart to leave 
everything substantially as it had been. He thought he could 
satisfy the people with an appearance of participation in the 
government without however in the least limiting the omnipo- 
tence of the crown. But these attempts ended like others made 
by other monarchs in other times. The merely ostensible and in- 
sufficient things he offered served only to strengthen and in- 
flame the popular demand for something substantial and effec- 
tive. Revolutions often begin with apparent but unreal reforms. 
He called " provincial diets," assemblies of local representa- 
tive bodies, with the expectation that they would modestly con- 
tent themselves with the narrow functions he prescribed for 
them. But they petitioned vehemently for a great deal more. 
The experiment of appearing to give and of really withhold- 
ing everything was bound to fail miserably. The petitions of 
the provincial diets for freedom of the press, for trial by jury, 
and a liberal constitution, became more and more pressing. 
The discontent gradually grew so general, the storm of peti- 
tions so violent, the repugnance of the people to the police- 
despotism so menacing, that the old parade of the absolute 
kingly power would no longer suffice, and some new step 
in the direction of liberal innovations seemed imperatively 
necessary. 

At last Frederick William IV. decided to convoke the 
so-called " United Diet," an assembly consisting of the mem- 
bers of all the provincial diets, to meet on April 11, 1847, 
in Berlin. But it was the old game over again. This assembly 
was to have the look of a parliament and yet not to be one. Its 
convocation was always to depend upon the pleasure of the 
king. Its powers were circumscribed within the narrowest 
limits. It was not to make laws nor to pass binding resolutions. 
\It was to serve only as a sort of privy council to the king, to 

[107] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
assist him in forming his decisions, its wishes to be presented 
to him only by way of petition. In the speech with which 
the king opened the United Diet, he declared with em- 
phasis that this was now the utmost concession to which he 
would ever consent; he would never, never permit a piece of 
paper, meaning a written constitution, to be put between the 
prince and his people; the people themselves, he claimed, did 
not desire a participation of their representatives in the govern- 
ment; the absolute power of the king must not be broken; " the 
crown must reign and govern according to the laws of God 
and of the country and according to the king's own resolu- 
tions " ; he could not, and must not, " govern according to the 
will of majorities " ; and he, the king, " would never have called 
this assembly had he ever suspected in the slightest degree that 
its members would try to play the part of so-called representa- 
tives of the people." This was now, he said, the fulfillment, 
and ' more than the fulfillment," of the promises made 
in the time of distress in 1813, before the expulsion of the 
French. 

General disappointment and increasing discontent fol- 
lowed this pronouncement. But the concession made by the 
king in fact signified more than he had anticipated. A king 
who wishes to govern with absolute power must not permit a 
public discussion of the policy and of the acts of the govern- 
ment by men who stand nearer to the people than he does. The 
United Diet could indeed not resolve, but only debate and 
petition. But that it could debate, and that its debates passed 
through faithful newspaper reports into the intelligence of the 
country — that was an innovation of incalculable consequence. 

The bearing of the United Diet, on the benches of which 
sat many men of uncommon capacity and liberal principles, 
was throughout dignified, discreet and moderate. But the 

[108] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
struggle against absolutism began instantly, and the people 
followed it with constantly increasing interest. What has 
happened in the history of the world more than once hap- 
pened again. Every step forward brought to the consciousness 
of the people the necessity of further steps forward. And 
now, when the king endeavored to stem the growing commo- 
tion, repelled the moderate demands made by the United Diet 
with sharp words, and dismissed that assembly " ungraciously," 
then the public mind was, by the government itself, dragged 
into that channel of thought in which revolutionary sentiments 
grow. 

There had indeed long been some revolutionary agitators 
who, in their isolation, had passed for dreamers and could 
win but a slim following. But now the feeling began to spread 
in large circles that the real thunder-storm was coming, 
although hardly anybody anticipated how soon it would come. 
In former days people had excited themselves about what 
Thiers and Guizot had said in the French chambers, or Pal- 
merston and Derby in the English parliament, or even what 
Hecker, Rotteck and Welker had said in the little Diet of the 
grand duchy of Baden. But now everybody listened with 
nervous eagerness to every word that in the United Diet of 
the most important of German states had fallen from the lips 
of Camphausen, Vincke, Beckerath, Hansemann and other 
liberal leaders. There was a feeling in the air as if this United 
Diet, in its position and the task to be performed by it, was 
not at all unlike the French assembly of the year 1789. 

We university students watched these events with per- 
haps a less clear understanding, but with no less ardent interest, 
than our elders. As I have already mentioned, the " Burschen- 
schaft ' : had its political traditions. Immediately after the 
wars of liberation — 1813 to 1815 — it had been among the first 

[109] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
in line to raise the cry for the fulfillment of the pledges given 
by the princes. It had cultivated the national spirit with zeal, 
although sometimes with exaggerated demonstrations. It had 
furnished many victims in the persecutions of so-called dema- 
gogues. The political activity of the old Burschenschaft had 
indeed not been continued by the younger associations; but 
' God, Liberty, Fatherland," had still remained the common 
watchword; we still wore the prohibited black-red-golden rib- 
bon under our coats, and very many members of the new 
Burschenschaft societies still recognized it as their duty to keep 
themselves well informed of what happened in the political 
world and to devote to it as active an interest as possible. Thus 
the liberal currents of our time found among us enthusi- 
astic partisans, although we young people could not give a 
very definite account of the practical steps to be taken. 

In the prosecution of my studies I had taken up with 
ardor the history of Europe at the period of the great Refor- 
mation. I expected to make this my specialty as a professor of 
history. The great characters of that period strongly at- 
tracted me and I could not resist the temptation to clothe some 
of them in dramatic form. So I planned a tragedy, the main 
figure of which was to be Ulrich von Hutten, and I began to 
elaborate some scenes in detail. At the beginning of the winter 
semester of 1847-48 I had made the acquaintance of a young 
student from Detmold, who became not indeed a member, but 
a guest of the Franconia. His name was Friedrich Althaus. 
More than any young man of my acquaintance he responded 
to the ideal of German youth. His was a thoroughly pure and 
noble nature and richly endowed with mental gifts. As we 
pursued similar studies we easily became intimates, and this 
friendship lasted with undiminished warmth long beyond the 
university years. To him I confided my Hutten secret, and he 

[110] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
encouraged me to carry out my plan. Happy were the hours 
when I read to him what I had written and he gave me his 
judgment, which usually was altogether too favorable. Thus 
passed the larger part of the winter in useful and enjoyable 
occupations. Then fate broke in with the force of a mighty 
hurricane, which swept me, as well as many others, with irre- 
sistible power out of all life-plans previously designed and 
cherished. 



[Ill] 



CHAPTER V 

ONE morning, toward the end of February, 1848, I sat 
quietly in my attic-chamber, working hard at my tragedy of 
" Ulrich von Hutten," when suddenly a friend rushed breath- 
lessly into the room, exclaiming: " What, you sitting here! Do 
you not know what has happened? " 

"No; what?" 

" The French have driven away Louis Philippe and pro- 
claimed the republic." 

I threw down my pen — and that was the end of " Ulrich 
von Hutten." I never touched the manuscript again. We tore 
down the stairs, into the street, to the market-square, the accus- 
tomed meeting-place for all the student societies after their 
midday dinner. Although it was still forenoon, the market was 
already crowded with young men talking excitedly. There was 
no shouting, no noise, only agitated conversation. What did 
we want there? This probably no one knew. But since the 
French had driven away Louis Philippe and proclaimed the 
republic, something of course must happen here, too. Some of 
the students had brought their rapiers along, as if it were neces- 
sary at once to make an attack or to defend ourselves. We 
were dominated by a vague feeling as if a great outbreak of 
elemental forces had begun, as if an earthquake was impend- 
ing of which we had felt the first shock, and we instinctively 
crowded together. Thus we wandered about in numerous bands 
— to the " Kneipe," where our restlessness, however, would not 
suffer us long to stay ; then to other pleasure resorts, where we 
fell into conversation with all manner of strangers, to find in 

[112] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
them the same confused, astonished and expectant state of 
mind; then back to the market-square, to see what might be 
going on there; then again somewhere else, and so on, without 
aim and end, until finally late in the night fatigue compelled 
us to find the way home. 

The next morning there were the usual lectures to be at- 
tended. But how profitless! The voice of the professor 
sounded like a monotonous drone coming from far away. 
What he had to say did not seem to concern us. The pen that 
should have taken notes remained idle. At last we closed with 
a sigh the notebook and went away, impelled by a feeling that 
now we had something more important to do — to devote our- 
selves to the affairs of the fatherland. And this we did by seek- 
ing as quickly as possible again the company of our friends, in 
order to discuss what had happened and what was to come. In 
these conversations, excited as they were, certain ideas and 
catchwords worked themselves to the surface, which expressed 
more or less the feelings of the people. Now had arrived in 
Germany the day for the establishment of " German Unity," 
and the founding of a great, powerful national German Em- 
pire. In the first line the convocation of a national parliament. 
Then the demands for civil rights and liberties, free speech, 
free press, the right of free assembly, equality before the law, 
a freely elected representation of the people with legislative 
power, responsibility of ministers, self-government of the com- 
munes, the right of the people to carry arms, the formation of 
a civic guard with elective officers, and so on — in short, that 
which was called a " constitutional form of government on a 
broad democratic basis." Republican ideas were at first only 
sparingly expressed. But the word democracy was soon on 
all tongues, and many, too, thought it a matter of course 
that if the princes should try to withhold from the people the 

[ US ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
rights and liberties demanded, force would take the place of 
mere petition. Of course the regeneration of the fatherland 
must, if possible, be accomplished by peaceable means. A few 
days after the outbreak of this commotion I reached my nine- 
teenth birthday. I remember to have been so entirely absorbed 
by what was happening that I could hardly turn my thoughts 
to anything else. Like many of my friends, I was dominated by 
the feeling that at last the great opportunity had arrived for 
giving to the German people the liberty which was their birth- 
right and to the German fatherland its unity and greatness, and 
that it was now the first duty of every German to do and to 
sacrifice everything for this sacred object. We were pro- 
foundly, solemnly in earnest. 

The first practical service we had to perform turned out 
to be a very merry one. Shortly after the arrival of the tidings 
from France the burgomaster of Bonn, a somewhat timid man, 
believed the public safety in his town to be in imminent danger. 
In point of fact, in spite of the general excitement there were 
really no serious disturbances of the public order. But the 
burgomaster insisted that a civic guard must at once be organ- 
ized, to patrol the city and the surrounding country during the 
night. The students, too, were called upon to join it, and as 
this forming of such a guard was also part of our political pro- 
gramme, we at once willingly obeyed the summons, and we did 
this in such numbers that soon the civic guard consisted in 
great part of university men. Our prescribed task was to 
arrest disturbers of the public order and suspicious individuals, 
and to conduct them to the guardhouse; to induce gatherings 
of a suspicious nature to disperse; to protect property and 
generally to watch over the public safety. But the public safety 
being really in no manner threatened, and the patrolling of 
the city and neighborhood meeting no serious need, the uni- 

[114] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
versity men found in the whole proceeding an opportunity for 
harmless amusement. Armed with our rapiers, the iron sheaths 
of which were made to rattle upon the pavement to the best of 
our ability, we marched through the streets. Every solitary 
citizen whom we met late in the night was summoned with 
pompous phrases to " disperse " and to betake himself to his 
" respective habitation," or, if it pleased him better, to follow 
us to the guardhouse and have a glass of wine with us. When- 
ever we happened to run across a patrol not composed of stu- 
dents, but of citizens, we at once denounced them as a danger- 
ous mob, arrested them and took them to the guardhouse, where 
with cheers for the new empire we drank as many glasses 
together as there were points of reform in the political pro- 
gramme. The good burghers of Bonn fully appreciated the 
humorous situation and entered heartily into the fun. 

While all this looked merry enough, affairs elsewhere were 
taking a serious turn — as serious as we, too, felt at the bottom 
of our hearts. 

Exciting news came from all sides. In Cologne a threat- 
ening ferment prevailed. In the taverns and on the streets 
resounded the " Marseillaise," w T hich at that time still passed in 
all Europe as the "hymn of liberty." On the public places great 
meetings were held to consult about the demands to be made by 
the people. A large deputation, headed by the late lieutenant 
of artillery, August von Willich, forced its way into the hall 
of the city council, vehemently insisting that the municipality 
present as its own the demands of the people of Cologne to the 
king. The streets resounded with the military drumbeat; the 
soldiery marched upon the popular gatherings, and Willich, 
as well as another ex-artillery officer, Fritz Anneke, were ar- 
rested; whereupon increasing excitement. 

The Rhenish members of the prorogued United Diet im- 

[115] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
plored the president of the province to urge upon the king 
an immediate acceptance of the demands of the people as the 
only thing that could prevent bloody conflicts. In Coblenz, 
Diisseldorf, Aachen, Crefeld, Cleves and other cities on the 
Rhine similar demonstrations took place. In South Germany 
— in Baden, Hessen-on-the-Rhine, Nassau, Wiirtemberg, 
Bavaria — the same revolutionary spirit burst forth like a 
prairie-fire. In Baden the Grand Duke acceded almost at once 
to what was asked of him, and so did the rulers of Wiirtem- 
berg, Nassau, and Hessen-Darmstadt. In Bavaria, where even 
before the outbreak of the French February revolution the 
notorious Lola Montez, favorite of King Ludwig I., had had 
to yield her place near the throne to the wrath of the people, 
uproar followed uproar to drive the king to liberal concessions. 
In Hessen-Cassel the " Elector " also succumbed to the press- 
ure when the people had armed themselves for an uprising. 
The students of the university of Giessen sent word to the 
insurgent Hessians that they stood ready to help them. In 
Saxony the defiant attitude of the citizens of Leipzig, under 
the leadership of Robert Blum, quickly brought the king to 
terms. 

Great news came from Vienna. There the students of the 
university were the first to assail the Emperor of Austria with 
the cry for liberty and citizens' rights. Blood flowed in the 
streets, and the downfall of Prince Metternich was the result. 
The students organized themselves as the armed guard of 
liberty. In the great cities of Prussia there was a mighty com- 
motion. Not only Cologne, Coblenz and Trier, but also Bres- 
lau, Konigsberg and Frankfurt-on-the-Oder, sent deputations 
to Berlin to entreat the king. In the Prussian capital the 
masses surged upon the streets, and everybody looked for 
events of great import. 

[116] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
While such tidings rushed in upon us from all sides 
like a roaring hurricane, we in the little university town of 
Bonn were also busy preparing addresses to the sovereign, to 
circulate them for signature and to send them to Berlin. On 
the 18th of March we too had our mass demonstration. A 
great multitude gathered for a solemn procession through the 
streets of the town. The most respectable citizens, not a few 
professors and a great number of students and people of all 
grades marched in close ranks. At the head of the procession 
Professor Kinkel bore the tricolor, black, red and gold, which 
so long had been prohibited as the revolutionary flag. Arrived 
on the market-square he mounted the steps of the city hall and 
spoke to the assembled throng. He spoke with wonderful elo- 
quence, his voice ringing out in its most powerful tones as he 
depicted a resurrection of German unity and greatness and of 
the liberties and rights of the German people, which now must 
be conceded by the princes or won by force by the people. And 
when at last he waved the black, red and gold banner, and 
predicted to a free German nation a magnificent future, en- 
thusiasm without bounds broke forth. People clapped their 
hands, they shouted, they embraced one another, they shed 
tears. ^In a moment the city was covered with black, red and 
gold flags, and not only the Burschenschaft, but almost 
everybody wore a black-red-gold cockade on his hat. While 
on that 18th of March we were parading through the 
streets suddenly sinister rumors flew from mouth to mouth. 
It had been reported that the king of Prussia, after long hesi- 
tation, had finally concluded, like the other German princes, to 
concede the demands that were pouring upon him from all 
sides. But now a whispered report flew around that the soldiery 
had suddenly fired upon the people and that a bloody struggle 
was raging in the streets of Berlin. 

[117] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
The enthusiastic elation was followed by a short time of 
anxious expectancy. At last came the report of the awful 
events that had taken place in the capital. 

v The king of Prussia, Frederick William IV., at first 
received the petitions rushing in upon him with sullen silence. 
He had so recently, and then so emphatically, even so defiantly, 
proclaimed his inflexible determination never to consent to any 
constitutional limitation of his kingly power, that the thought 
of yielding to popular pressure anything that he fancied should 
be only a free emanation of the royal will was well-nigh incon- 
ceivable to him. But the situation became more threatening 
from day to day. Not only the language of the deputations 
arriving from various parts of the kingdom constantly grew 
more and more impetuous and peremptory, but the people of 
Berlin began to hold mass meetings counting by thousands and 
to greet with thundering acclamations the political watchwords 
uttered by popular orators. The municipal authorities, too, 
were swept into the current and entreated the king to make 
concessions. At last he saw the necessity of yielding some- 
thing. On the 14th of March he gave a " gracious " answer to 
an address presented by the city council, but that answer was 
still too evasive and indefinite to satisfy public opinion. Mean- 
while bloody collisions occurred between the police supported 
by military detachments and the multitude thronging the pub- 
lic squares and streets, in which a merchant and a university 
student were killed. The bitterness of feeling caused by these 
events was somewhat assuaged by a rumor that the king had 
resolved upon further and more important concessions, which 
would be publicly announced on the 18th. He had indeed con- 
cluded to issue an edict opening a prospect of steps to be taken 
in favor of national unity and abolishing the censorship of the 
press. 

[118] 





1.11* 













« 
Q 

W 

a 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
On the afternoon of the fateful 18th of March an im- 
mense concourse of people assembled on the open square in 
front of the royal palace, hoping to hear the authoritative 
announcement that the popular demands had been granted. 
The king appeared on the balcony and was received with 
enthusiastic cheers. He attempted to speak, but could not be 
heard. In the belief, however, that he had granted all that was 
asked for, the people were ready for a jubilee. Then a cry 
arose for the removal of the bodies of troops surrounding the 
palace and appearing to separate the king from his people. It 
seemed to be expected that this would be granted, too, for an 
effort was made to open a passage for the soldiers through the 
dense crowd, when a roll of drums was heard. This was re- 
garded as a signal for the departure of the soldiery; but, 
instead of the troops withdrawing, heavy bodies of infantry 
and cavalry pressed upon the multitude for the evident purpose 
of clearing the square. Then two shots rang from the infantry 
line and the whole scene suddenly and frightfully changed. 
Frantic cries arose: " We are betrayed! We are betrayed! " In 
an instant the mass of people who but a moment before had 
joyously acclaimed the king, dispersed in the adjoining streets 
with the angy shout, " To arms, to arms ! " In all directions the 
thoroughfares were soon blocked with barricades. The paving- 
stones seemed to leap from the ground and to form themselves 
into bulwarks surmounted by black-red-gold flags, and manned 
by citizens, university students, tradesmen, artists, laborers, 
professional men — hastily armed with all sorts of weapons, 
from rifles and shotguns down to pikes, axes and hammers. 
There was no preparation, no plan, no system, in the uprising ; 
everybody seemed to follow a common instinct. Then the 
troops were ordered to the assault. When, after a fierce fight 
they had taken one barricade, they were at short distances con- 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
fronted by another and another. Behind the barricades women 
were busy bringing food and drink for the fighters and caring 
for the wounded. During the whole night the city resounded 
with the roar of cannon and the rattle of musketry. 

The king seemed at first sternly determined to put down 
the insurrection at any cost; but as the street battle proceeded 
he became painfully conscious of its terrible character. Reports 
arrived in rapid succession. He would now give an order to 
stop the fight and then an order to go on. Shortly after mid- 
night he wrote with his own hand an address to " My dear Ber- 
liners." He began by saying that the firing of the two shots 
which had caused the excitement had been a mere accident, that 
a band of miscreants, mostly foreigners, had taken advantage 
of this misunderstanding to goad many of his good subjects 
into this fratricidal fight. Then he promised to withdraw the 
troops as soon as the insurgents would remove the barricades, 
and he implored them " to listen to the fatherly voice of their 
king, to which the grievously suffering queen joined her affec- 
tionate and tearful prayers." But the address failed to produce 
the desired effect. It was accompanied with the roar of cannon 
and the rattle of musketry, and the fighting citizens rather re- 
sented being called " a band of miscreants." 

At last, on the afternoon of Sunday, the 19th of March, 
when one of the high commanders of the troops, General 
Mollendorf, had been captured by the citizens, the withdrawal 
of the troops was resolved upon. Peace was concluded on the 
understanding that the army should leave Berlin, that there 
should be freedom of the press, and that Prussia should have 
a constitution on a broad democratic basis. When the soldiery 
had marched off something happened that in dramatic force 
and significance has never been surpassed in the history of revo- 
lutions. From all parts of the city solemn and silent processions 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
moved toward the royal palace. They escorted the bodies of 
those of the people who had been killed in the battle ; the corpses 
of the slain were carried aloft on litters, their gaping wounds 
uncovered, their heads wreathed with laurel branches and im- 
mortelles. So the processions marched into the inner palace 
court, where the litters were placed in rows in ghastly parade, 
and around them the multitude of men with pallid faces, be- 
grimed with blood and powder smoke, many of them still car- 
rying the weapons with which they had fought during the 
night; and among them women and children bewailing their 
dead. Then the king was loudly called for. He appeared in 
an open gallery, pale and dejected, by his side the weeping 
queen. ' Hat off! " the multitude shouted, and the king took 
off his hat to the dead below. Then a deep voice among the 
crowd intoned the old hymn, " Jesus, meine Zuversicht " — 
" Jesus, my Refuge," in which all present joined. The chorus 
finished, the king silently withdrew and the procession moved 
away in grim solemnity. 

This was a terrible humiliation to the crown, but at the 
same time a pointed answer to the king's address in which the 
fighters had been denounced as a band of miscreants, or as 
the seduced victims of such a band. Had there realty been 
such miscreants, or persons answering our present conception 
of anarchists, among them, Frederick William IV. would 
hardly have survived that terrible moment when he stood be- 
fore them, alone and defenseless, and they fresh from the 
battlefield with guns in their hands. But at that moment their 
cry was not " Death to the king! " nor " Down with royalty! ' 
but " Jesus, my Refuge! " 

Nor was the history of those fateful days tainted by any 
act of heinous crime; indeed, two private houses were sacked, 
the owners of which had been caught betraying the fighting 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
citizens to the soldiery. But while the insurgents were in com- 
plete control of large portions of the city during the whole 
night, there was not a single case of theft or of wanton de- 
struction. Property was absolutely safe. 

The " Prince of Prussia," the oldest brother of the child- 
less king and presumptive heir to the throne — the same prince 
who as Kaiser William I. was in the course of events to be- 
come the most popular monarch of his time — was reported to 
have given the order to fire on the people, and the popular 
wrath turned upon him. By order of the king the prince left 
Berlin under cover of night and hurried to Englandlj Ex- 
cited crowds gathered in front of his palace on the street 
' Unter den Linden." There was no military guard to protect 
the building. A university student put upon its front the in- 
scription "National property," and it was not touched. Im- 
mediately after the street battle had ceased the shops were 
opened again as in ordinary times. 

Arms were distributed among the people from the gov- 
ernment armories. The king declared, " I have become con- 
vinced that the peace and the safety of the city cannot be 
better maintained than by the citizens themselves." On the 
21st of March Frederick William IV. appeared again 
among the people, on horseback, a black-red-gold scarf 
around his arm, a black-red-gold flag at his request carried 
before him, a huge tricolor hoisted at the same moment on 
the royal palace. The king spoke freely to the citizens. He 
would ' place himself at the head of the movement for a 
united Germany; in that united Germany Prussia would be 
merged." He swore that he wanted nothing but a " constitu- 
tional and united Germany." At the university building he 
turned to the assembled students, saying, " I thank you for the 
glorious spirit you have shown in these days. I am proud that 

[122] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
Germany possesses such sons." It was understood that a new 
and responsible ministry had been appointed, composed of 
members of the liberal opposition; that a constituent assembly 
to be elected by the Prussian people should be convoked to 
frame a constitution for the kingdom of Prussia; and a national 
parliament to be elected by the people of all the German states, 
to meet at Frankfurt for the purpose of uniting all Germany 
under a new constitutional government. The people of Berlin 
were in ecstasy. 

" The heroes fallen in the glorious struggle for social and 
political liberty," as the proclamation of the municipal as- 
sembly called them, were carried for burial to the Friedrichs- 
hain cemetery, accompanied by two hundred thousand citizens, 
who took the coffins past the royal palace, where the king again 
stood with uncovered head. 

Such were the great tidings the country received from 
Berlin. Thus the cause of liberty and national union seemed 
to have achieved a decisive and irreversible victory. The kings 
and princes themselves, foremost the King of Prussia, had 
solemnly promised to serve it. The jubilation of the people 
was without bounds. 

Since the French-German war of 1870 and the establish- 
ment of the present German Empire it has been the fashion in 
Germany to scoff at the year 1848, dubbing it the ' crazy 
year," and to ridicule the " thoughtlessness " with which at that 
time great political programmes were made, comprehensive 
demands formulated, and far-reaching movements set on foot, 
to be followed by cruel disappointments and catastrophes. 
But did the German people of 1848 deserve such ridicule? 
True, the men of those times did not know how to deal with 
the existing conditions, nor to carry to the desired end the 
movement so victoriously and hopefully begun. It is equally 

[123] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
true that the popular movement was disjointed and now in 
retrospect appears in certain lights fantastic. But what rea- 
sonable person can wonder at this? The people, although 
highly developed in science, philosophy, literature and art, 
had always lived under a severe guardianship in all po- 
litical matters. They had never been out of leading strings. 
They had observed only from afar how the other nations 
exercised their right to govern themselves, and managed their 
active participation in the functions of the state, and those 
foreign nations the Germans had learned to admire and per- 
haps to envy. They had studied the theory of free institutions 
in books and had watched their workings in current news- 
paper reports. They had longed for the possession of like y 
institutions and earnestly striven for their introduction in their 
own country. But with all this observing, learning, and long- 
ing, and striving, the larger part of the German people had 
been excluded by the prevailing rigid paternalism from prac- 
tical experience in the exercise of political self-government. 
They had not been permitted to learn the practical meaning of 
political liberty. They had never received or known the teach- 
ings which spring from the feeling of responsibility in free 
political action. The affairs of government lay outside of the 
customs and habits of their lives. Free institutions were to them 
mere abstract conceptions, about which the educated and the 
seriously thinking men indulged in politico-philosophical specu- 
lations, while to the uneducated and the superficial they only 
furnished political catchwords, in the use of which the gen- 
eral discontent with existing conditions found vent. 

Suddenly after a prolonged fermentation, and following 
an impulse from abroad, the German people rose up in 
strength. The kings and princes now conceded everything 
that they had refused before, and the people found themselves 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
all at once in full possession of an unaccustomed power. Is it 
to be wondered at that these surprising changes brought forth 
some confused desires and misdirected endeavors? Would it 
not have been more astonishing if the people had at once 
clearly defined and wisely limited their desires, and promptly 
found the right means for the attainment of the right objects? 
Do we expect that the beggar who suddenly becomes a mil- 
lionaire will instantly know how to make the best use of his 
unwonted wealth? And yet, it cannot be said of the large 
majority of the German people that, however vague their 
political notions may have been, they asked in the revolution- 
ary movements of the year 1848 in the main for anything 
that was unreasonable or unattainable. Much of what they 
at that period sought to accomplish has since been realized. 
The errors committed by them in 1848 were more in the means 
employed than in the ends aimed at. And the greatest of 
these errors sprang from the childlike confidence with which 
they expected the complete fulfillment of all the promises which 
the kings and princes, especially the King of Prussia, had 
made under stress of circumstances. It is idle to indulge 
in speculations about that which might have been if that which 
was had been different. But one thing is certain: If the 
princes had not permitted themselves to be seduced by the 
machinations of the reactionary parties on the one side, nor 
to be frightened by occasional popular excesses on the other, 
but had with unflinching fidelity and with the exertion 
of all their power done that which in March, 1848, they had 
given the people reason to expect of them, the essential ob- 
jects fought for at that period would have proved themselves 
entirety practicable. It was indeed not prudent on the part of 
the people in their enthusiastic enjoyment of what they called 
the " Volkerfruhling " — the People's Springtime — an enjoy- 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
ment to which they gave themselves with such ingenuous elation, 
to cherish that credulous confidence, instead of assuring 
themselves of the necessary guarantees against a reaction 
bound to come; but this imprudence sprang from no ignoble 
source. He surely wrongs the German people who lays solely 
at their and their leaders' doors the responsibility for the fail- 
ures of the years 1848-49, overlooking the tergiversations of 

the princes. 

But what should make the memory of that " springtime " 
especially dear to Germans is the enthusiastic spirit of self- 
sacrifice for the great cause which for a while pervaded almost 
every class of society with rare unanimity. It is this moral 
elevation which, even if sometimes it ran into fantastic exag- 
gerations, the German people should prize and honor — of 
which they should certainly not be ashamed. My heart warms 
whenever I think of those days. In my immediate surround- 
ings I knew hosts of men who at that time were ready at any 
moment to abandon and risk all for the liberty of the people 
and the greatness of the fatherland. We ought to respect 
him who is willing to throw away all, even life itself, for a good 
and great idea. And whoever, be it an individual or people, has 
had in life moments of such self-sacrificing enthusiasm, should 
hold the memory of them sacred. 

Upon the occasion of a crowded public meeting of 
university men in the " Aula," the great university hall at 
Bonn, I found myself, quite unintentionally, thrust into a con- 
spicuous position among my fellow-students. I do not remem- 
ber the special purpose for which the meeting was held. 
Professor Ritschl, our foremost philologist and, if I recollect 
rightly, at that time dean of the philosophical faculty, a very 
highly esteemed and popular man, was in the chair. I stood 
among the crowd. I had thought much and formed a decided 

[126] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
opinion of the subject which was under discussion, but did 
not attend the meeting with the intention of taking part in 
the debate. Suddenly I heard some of the speakers say some- 
thing very repugnant to my feelings, and following a sudden 
impulse, I found myself the next moment speaking to the as- 
sembly. I have never been able to recollect what I said. I only 
remember that I was in a nervous condition until then entirely 
unknown to me; that thoughts and words came to me in an 
uninterrupted flow; that I spoke with vehement rapidity, 
and that the applause following my speech wakened me out 
of something like a dream. This was my first public speech. 
When the meeting had adjourned I met at the exit of the 
hall Professor Ritschl. As I attended some of his lectures 
he knew me. He put his hand upon my shoulder and asked: 
" How old are you? " 
" Nineteen years." 

' Too bad ; still too young for our new German parlia- 
ment." 

I blushed all over; that I should become a member of 
any parliament — that was a thought to which my ambition had 
never soared. I feared the good professor had permitted him- 
self to joke with me. 

Before long I was again in the foreground. Like all other 
orders of society in those days, we university men had our 
peculiar grievances which in the " new time " were to be re- 
dressed. The Prussian Government kept at the universities 
an official one of whose principal duties it was to watch the 
political tendencies of professors and students. This office had 
been created at the time of the " persecution of demagogues," 
after the notorious ministerial conferences at Carlsbad, and 
was therefore in bad odor with liberal-minded men. The officer 
in question was at that time Herr von Bethmann Hollweg. 

[127] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
More on account of his duties than of his personal qualities 
he was highly unpopular with the students. We thought that 
such an officer, a product of the period of deepest degradation, 
did not fit the new order of things and must speedily be abol- 
ished. A meeting of students was therefore called at the 
riding academy, from which, our object having been rumored 
about, the professors prudently absented themselves. My 
impromptu speech in the Aula caused my election as president 
of this meeting. We resolved to present an address to the 
academic senate, demanding that the officer in question should 
at once be removed. As chairman of the meeting I was charged 
with the duty to write the address on the spot. This was done. 
It was couched in very peremptory language and consisted 
only of four or five lines. The meeting approved it forthwith, 
and resolved — as in those days we loved to do things in dra- 
matic style — to proceed in mass to the house of the rector of 
the university and personally to present the paper to him. So 
we marched, seven or eight hundred men, in dense column, to 
the dwelling of the rector and rang the bell. The rector, Herr 
van Calker, professor of philosophy, an oldish, anxious-looking 
little man, soon appeared on the doorstep, and I read to him 
the energetic sentences of our address. For a moment he tim- 
idly looked at the crowd of students, and then told us in halting 
and stammering phrases how rejoiced he was to behold the 
soaring spirit of German youth and how the students could 
accomplish in these important days great things, and that he 
would be happy to submit our address to the academic senate 
and to the government for speedy consideration and adjust- 
ment. We read upon the face of the good little man, toward 
whom everyone of us felt most kindly, that he contemplated 
the soaring spirit of German youth with a certain uneasiness, 
thanked him for his good-will, took our leave politely and 

[128] 







CARL SCHl'BZ AT NINETEEN 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
marched back to the market-square. There it was reported to 
us — whether truly or not — that during our visit to the rector 
the unpopular officer in question had speedily packed his trunks 
and already left the town. 

While the jubilation over the " Marzerrungenschaften " 
— the results of the revolutionary movements in March — at 
first seemed to be general, and even the adherents of absolutism 
put a good face on a bad business, soon a separation into dif- 
ferent party-groups began between those whose principal aim 
was the restoration of order and authority — the conservatives; 
those "who wished slow and moderate progress — the constitu- 
tionalists; and those who aimed at securing the fruits of the 
revolution in " a constitutional government on the broadest 
democratic basis " — the democrats. Instinctive impulse as well 
as logical reasoning led me to the democratic side. There I met 
Kinkel again, and our friendship soon became very intimate. 
In the course of our common activity the formal relations be- 
tween teacher and pupil yielded to a tone of thorough com- 
radeship. 

In the beginning the zealous work of agitation absorbed 
almost all our time and strength. Kinkel, indeed, still deliv- 
ered his lectures, and I also attended mine with tolerable regu- 
larity; but my heart was not in them as before. All the more 
eagerly I studied modern history, especially the history of the 
French Revolution, and read a large number of politico-philo- 
sophical works and of pamphlets and periodicals of recent 
date, which treated of the problems of the time. In this way 
I endeavored to clear my political conceptions and to fill the 
large gaps in my historical knowledge — a want which I felt 
all the more seriously as my task as an agitator was to me a 
sacred duty. 

First we organized a democratic club consisting of citi- 

[129] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
zens and students, which found in the so-called Constitutional 
Club, led by Professor Lobell, a very able man, a most re- 
spectable opponent. Then we founded a local organ for the 
democratic party, the Bonner Zeitung, a daily paper, the edit- 
orship of which was undertaken by Kinkel, while I, as a 
regular contributor, had to furnish every day one or more 
articles. And finally, once or twice a week, in fact as often as 
we could, we marched out to the neighboring villages to 
preach to the country people the political gospel of the new 
time, and also to organize them into democratic clubs. 
Undoubtedly, the nineteen-year-old journalist and speaker 
brought forth a great deal of undigested stuff, but he believed 
sincerely and warmly in his cause and would have been ready 
at any time to sacrifice himself for it. 

My activity in this direction, however, soon after its begin- 
ning came very near a sudden stop. Long before the breaking 
out of the revolution of March, the people of the Duchies of 
Schleswig and Holstein had made great efforts, while being 
united with Denmark by a " personal union," to win a politi- 
cally independent existence. In March, 1848, the people of those 
Duchies rose in mass to the end of securing this independent 
position, and of making not only Holstein, but also Schleswig 
a part of the German Confederation. This uprising awakened 
in all Germany the liveliest sympathy, and in various places 
efforts were made to raise volunteer troops for the assistance 
of the people of the Duchies against the Danes. Especially at 
the universities these efforts struck a responsive chord, and 
students in large numbers went to Schleswig-Holstein to join 
the volunteer organizations. My first impulse was to do like- 
wise. I was already engaged in serious preparations for de- 
parture when Kinkel persuaded me to desist, because the libera- 
tion of Schleswig-Holstein from the Danish yoke would be 

[ 130] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
recognized by the German Parliament and the German gov- 
ernments as a national cause, and the Prussian and other regu- 
lar troops would do much better service in the war than the 
loosely organized and badly drilled bodies of hastily gathered 
volunteers. Neither did he conceal from me that he was anxious 
to keep me with him in Bonn, where, as he sought to convince 
me, I could do the Fatherland much better service in the way of 
agitation for our cause. As it turned out, the volunteer organi- 
zations formed by students fought right bravely in Schleswig- 
Holstein, but when facing the superior discipline and tactics 
of the Danish troops, found themselves exposed to all sorts of 
ugly accidents. The service so rendered was therefore in no 
proportion to the sacrifices made by their members. The re- 
ports brought by several students who, after having served in 
Schleswig-Holstein for a little time, returned to the universi- 
ties, consoled me for the restraint I had put upon my warlike 
ardor. 

Several of these Schleswig-Holstein volunteers came to 
Bonn, and among them Adolph Strodtmann, who at a later 
period achieved in German literature a respectable place. He 
became my near personal friend, and will appear as such in this 
story of my life on various occasions. He was the son of a 
Protestant clergyman in Hadersleben, a little town in the 
Duchy of Schleswig. Father and son were enthusiastic adher- 
ents of the pro-German national cause, and young Adolph, who 
shortly before the outbreak of the Schleswig-Holstein uprising 
had left the gymnasium, joined at once a corps of student-vol- 
unteers. He was unfit for military service in a rare degree, for 
he was not only very nearsighted, but also of imperfect hearing. 
He told us frequently with great humor of his only martial 
achievement. One morning the corps of students was surprised 
in their camp by the Danes and roughly handled. Strodtmann 

[131] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
noticed the general tumult and concluded that something ex- 
traordinary was the matter. The orders which were given he 
did not understand; but he joined the crowd of others and soon 
found himself alone enveloped in powder-smoke. " Then," he 
added, " I fired my rifle twice, but do not know to this moment 
whether in the right or wrong direction. I was so nearsighted 
that I could not distinguish the Danes from our people. I al- 
most fear that I fired in the wrong direction, for suddenly 
I felt something like a heavy blow in my back; I fell and re- 
mained on the ground until the Danes lifted me up and took 
me away. It was found that a bullet had hit me in the back 
and had gone straight through me. Of course only a Dane 
could have shot me in the back, and inasmuch as I always re- 
mained in the one spot during the fight, I must have turned my 
back towards the Danes and fired off my rifle in the direction of 
our own people." Dangerously wounded, Strodtmann was 
taken to the "Dronning Maria," the Danish prison-ship, and 
after a little while exchanged. After a speedy recovery he came 
to the University of Bonn, to study languages and literature. 
His physical infirmities made him a somewhat singular per- 
son. His deafness caused all sorts of funny misunderstandings, 
at which he usually was the first to laugh. He spoke with a very 
loud voice as if the rest of us had been as deaf as he was him- 
self. In consequence of his wound he had accustomed himself 
in walking to put one shoulder forward so that he always looked 
as if he were squeezing himself through an invisible crowd of 
people, and he was at the same time so inattentive that he ran 
against all possible objects. But he was a most sincere and 
honest enthusiast; of almost childlike ingenuousness in his 
views of men, things, and events; in a high degree capable of 
self-sacrifice and open to generous and noble impulses. His 
gifts as well as his inclinations made him devote him- 

[ 132] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
self to literature. His verses, which he produced in great 
profusion and with uncommon facility, excelled less by orig- 
inality of thought or fancy, than by an abundant and superb 
flow of poetical expression. It was largely owing to this talent 
that he subsequently wrote some admirable translations of 
French, English and Danish poetry and prose. His political 
instincts were strongly democratic, and he joined the agitation 
led by Kinkel with great zeal. It was thus that he and I 
became fast friends. 



[ 189 ] 



CHAPTER VI 

1 HE political horizon which after the revolution in March 
looked so glorious soon began to darken. In South Germany, 
where the opinion had gained ground that the revolution 
should not have " stood still before the thrones," a republican 
uprising took place under the leadership of the brilliant and 
impetuous Hecker, which, however, was speedily suppressed 
by force of arms. In the country at large such attempts found 
at first little sympathy. The bulk of the liberal element did not 
desire anything beyond the establishment of national unity 
and a constitutional monarchy " on a broad democratic basis." 
But the republican sentiment gradually spread and was inten- 
sified as the " reaction " assumed a more and more threatening 
shape. 

The national parliament at Frankfurt elected in the 
spring, which represented the sovereignty of the German 
people in the large sense and was to give to the united Ger- 
man nation a national government, counted among its mem- 
bers a great many men illustrious in the fields, not of politics, 
but of science and literature. It soon showed a dangerous ten- 
dency of squandering in brilliant, but more or less fruitless, 
debates much of the time which was sorely needed for prompt 
and decisive action to secure the legitimate results of the revo- 
lution against hostile forces. 

But our eyes were turned still more anxiously upon Ber- 
lin. Prussia was by far the strongest of the purely German 
states. The Austrian empire was a conglomeration of differ- 
ent nationalities — German, Magyar, Slavic and Italian. The 

[ 134 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
German element, to which the dynasty and the political capital 
belonged, had so far been the predominant one. It was most 
advanced in civilization and wealth, although inferior in num- 
bers. But the Slavs, the Magyars and the Italians, stimu- 
lated by the revolutionary movements of 1848, were striving 
for national autonomy, and although Austria had "held the 
foremost place in the later periods of the ancient German em- 
pire and then after the Napoleonic wars in the German 
Confederacy, it seemed problematic whether her large non- 
German interests would permit her to play a leading part now 
in the political unification of Germany under a constitutional 
government. In fact, it turned out subsequently that the 
mutual jealousies of the different races enabled the Austrian 
central government to subjugate to despotic rule one by the 
other, in spite of the hopeful beginnings of the revolution, and 
that the non-German interests of Austria and those of the 
dynasty were predominant in her policy. But Prussia, except- 
ing a comparatively small Polish district, was a purely Ger- 
man country, and by far the strongest among the German 
states in point of numbers, of general education, of economic 
activity and especially of military power. It was, therefore, 
generally felt that the attitude of Prussia would be decisive 
in determining the fate of the revolution. 

For a while the Prussian king, Frederick William IV., 
seemed to be pleased with the role of a leader in the national 
movement which the revolution had made him assume. His 
volatile nature seemed to be warmed by a new enthusiasm. He 
took walks on the streets and talked freely with the people. 
He spoke of constitutional principles of government to be in- 
troduced as a matter of course. He loudly praised the noble 
generosity which the people of Berlin had manifested toward 
him in the hours of stress. He ordered the army to wear the 

[135] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
black-red-gold cockade together with the Prussian. On the 
parade ground at Potsdam he declared to the sulking officers 
of the guards " that he felt himself perfectly safe, free and 
happy among the citizens of Berlin; that all the concessions 
made by him had been made of his own free will and according 
to his own convictions, and that nobody should dare to ques- 
tion this." But when the Prussian constituent assembly had 
met in Berlin and began to pass laws, and to design constitu- 
tional provisions, and to interfere with the conduct of the 
government in the spirit of the revolution, the king's mind 
gradually opened itself to other influences, and those influ- 
ences gained access to him and surrounded him all the more 
readily since he removed his residence from Berlin to his 
palace at Potsdam, a little town preponderantly inhabited by 
courtiers and soldiers and other dependents of the govern- 
ment. Thus the king's immediate contact with the people 
ceased, his conferences with the newly appointed liberal min- 
isters were confined to short formal "audiences," and voices 
appealing to old sympathies, prepossessions and partialities 
were constantly nearest to his ear. 

There was the army, traditionally the pet of the Hohen- 
zollerns, smarting under the " disgrace ' of its withdrawal 
from Berlin after the street battle, and pining for revenge 
and restoration of its prestige. There was the court nobility, 
whose business it always had been to exalt and flatter the royal 
person. There was the landed aristocracy, the " Junker " ele- 
ment, whose feudal privileges were theoretically denied by the 
revolutionary spirit and practically invaded by the legislative 
action of the representatives of the people, and who artfully 
goaded the king's pride. There was the old bureaucracy, the 
power of which had been broken by the revolution, although 
its personnel had but little been changed, and which sought to 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
recover its former sway. There was the " old Prussian " spirit 
which resented any national aspirations that might encroach 
upon the importance and self-appreciation of specific Prus- 
siandom, and which still had strength in the country im- 
mediately surrounding Berlin and in some of the eastern 
provinces. All these forces, which in a general term were pop- 
ularly called " the reaction," worked together to divert the 
king from the course he had ostensibly taken immediately 
after the revolution of March, with the hope of using him 
for the largest possible restoration of the old order of things 
— well knowing that if they controlled him, they would, 
through him, control the army, and then with it a tremendous, 
perhaps decisive, force in the conflicts to come. And this 
" reaction " was greatly strengthened by the cunning ex- 
ploitation of some street excesses that happened in Berlin — 
excesses which in a free country like England might, indeed, 
have brought forth some vigorous measures of repression by 
the police, but would certainly not have induced anybody to call 
the practicability of civil freedom or of the constitutional 
principles of government in question. But these occurrences 
were used in Prussia with considerable effect to frighten the 
timid men of the bourgeoisie with the specter of general an- 
archy, and to persuade the king that after all the restoration 
of unrestrained royal power was necessary for the mainte- 
nance of law and order. 

On the other hand, the visible development of the reaction 
had the effect of producing among many of those who stood 
earnestly for national unity and constitutional government, a 
state of mind more open to radical tendencies. The rapid 
progress of these developments was clearly perceptible in my 
own surroundings. Our democratic club was composed in al- 
most equal parts of students and citizens, among whom there 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
were many of excellent character, of some fortune and good 
standing, and of moderate views, while a few others had worked 
themselves into a state of mind resembling that of the terror- 
ists in the French Revolution. Kinkel was the recognized 
leader of the club, and I soon became a member of the execu- 
tive committee. At first the establishment of a constitutional 
monarchy with universal suffrage and well-secured civil rights 
would have been quite satisfactory to us. But the reaction, the 
threatened rise of which we were observing, gradually made 
many of us believe that there was no safety for popular lib- 
erty except in a republic. From this belief there was only one 
step to the further conclusion, that in a republic, and only in 
a republic, all evils of the social body could be cured, and the 
solution of all the political problems would be possible. The 
idealism which saw in the republican citizen the highest em- 
bodiment of human dignity we had imbibed from the study 
of classic antiquity; and the history of the French Revolution 
satisfied us that a republic could be created in Germany and 
could maintain its existence in the European system of states. 
In that history we found striking examples of the possibility 
of accomplishing the seemingly impossible, if only the whole 
energy resting in a great nation were awakened and directed 
with unflinching boldness. Most of us indeed recoiled from 
the wild excesses which had stained with streams of innocent 
blood the national uprising in France during the Reign of 
Terror. But we hoped to stir up the national energies without 
such terrorism. At any rate the history of the French Revolu- 
tion furnished to us models in plenty that mightily excited our 
imagination. How dangerously seductive such a play of the 
imagination is, we were of course then unaware. 

As usually happens, we tried first to imitate our models 
in certain external things. To emphasize the principle of 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
equality among the members of our club, we introduced the 
rule that there should be for all, however different might be 
their rank in life, only one form of address, namely, " citi- 
zen." There was to be no longer a " Herr Professor Kinkel," 
but only a " Citizen Kinkel," and so on through the list. We 
did not permit ourselves to be disturbed by the ridicule which 
this oddity attracted, for we were profoundly in earnest, sin- 
cerely believing that by the introduction of this style we could 
give tone to the developments which would inevitably come. 
Of the debates in our club my recollection is not distinct 
enough to say how much reason or how much unreason there 
was in, them. At all events they were carried on sometimes 
with remarkably eloquent earnestness, because most of the par- 
ticipants spoke from genuine honesty of conviction. 

In the course of the summer Kinkel and I were invited 
to represent the club at a congress of democratic associations 
in Cologne. This assembly, in which I remained a shy and 
silent observer, became remarkable to me in bringing me into 
personal contact with some of the prominent men of that 
period, among others, the leader of the communists, Karl*" 
Marx. He could not have been much more than thirty years 
old at that time, but he already was the recognized head of 
the advanced socialistic school. The somewhat thick-set man, 
with his broad forehead, his very black hair and beard and his 
dark sparkling eyes, at once attracted general attention. He 
enjoyed the reputation of having acquired great learning, and 
as I knew very little of his discoveries and theories, I was all 
the more eager to gather words of wisdom from the lips of that 
famous man. This expectation was disappointed in a peculiar 
way. Marx's utterances were indeed full of meaning, logical 
and clear, but I have never seen a man whose bearing was so 
provoking and intolerable. To no opinion, which differed from 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
his, he accorded the honor of even a condescending consider- 
ation. Everyone who contradicted him he treated with abject 
contempt; every argument that he did not like he answered 
either with biting scorn at the unfathomable ignorance that had 
prompted it, or with opprobrious aspersions upon the motives of 
him who had advanced it. I remember most distinctly the cut- 
ting disdain with which he pronounced the word " bourgeois "; 
and as a " bourgeois," that is as a detestable example of the 
deepest mental and moral degeneracy he denounced everyone 
that dared to oppose his opinion. Of course the propositions 
advanced or advocated by Marx in that meeting were voted 
down, because everyone whose feelings had been hurt by his 
conduct was inclined to support everything that Marx did not 
favor. It was very evident that not only he had not won any 
adherents, but had repelled many who otherwise might have 
become his followers. 

From this meeting I took home with me a very important 
lesson : that he who would be a leader and teacher of men must 
treat the opinions of his hearers with respect; that even the 
most superior mind will lose influence upon others if he seeks 
to humiliate those others by constant demonstrations of his - *, 
superiority. That public man will be most successful in en- 
lightening and winning the ignorant who puts himself upon 
their standpoint, not with condescension, but with sympathy^ 

On the whole the summer of 1848 was to me a time of 
work and worry. The newspaper for which I had to write 
articles, the agitation in clubs and popular meetings, and be- 
sides my studies, imposed upon me a very heavy burden of 
labor, in which — I must confess — my studies fell into a some- 
what subordinate place. What troubled me most was the visi- 
bly and constantly growing power of the reactionary forces 
and the frittering away of the opportunities to create some- 

[ 140] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
thing real and durable, by the national parliament in Frank- 
furt and by the assembly in Berlin. I remember well to have 
carried with me an oppressive consciousness of my own 
ignorance in political things, which was the more painful the 
more urgent appeared the necessity for the people to be pre- 
pared for prudent and energetic action in the decisive strug- 
gles which impended. 

Our activity, however, had also a cheerful side of which 
my youthful spirits were keenly susceptible. We students en- 
joyed with the country-people a very great popularity, and 
even persons who did not sympathize with us politically re- 
ceived us with a kindness which sometimes was so exuberant 
as to make our presence the occasion of gay festivities. 

The most interesting event of those days which I have 
cherished in my memory was the student-congress in Eisen- ' 
ach, which occurred in September, 1848, and which I attended 
as one of the chosen representatives of the university men of 
Bonn. This was the first long journey of my life. I had never 
before been far enough away from my paternal roof that I 
might not have returned in a few hours. On a bright Septem- 
ber morning I sailed up the Rhine from Bonn to Mainz. I 
should have enjoyed it with the fullness of youthful spirits 
had I been able to drive away the disquieting thoughts which 
were stirred up by confused rumors of a riot and street-battle 
in Frankfurt. In fact, upon my arrival in that city I found 
those rumors distressingly verified. 

The revolt in Frankfurt was the outcome of the follow- 
ing events. I have already mentioned that the popular up- 
rising in the duchies of Holstein and Schleswig against the 
Danish rule had been sanctioned as a national cause by the old 
Diet of the German Confederation, and then by the national 
parliament and by all the several German governments. 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
Prussian and other German troops had marched into the 
duchies and won considerable advantages over the Danish 
army on the field of battle. Everything promised a speedy 
and happy termination of the war. It was therefore a painful 
surprise when the Prussian government, whose head, Fred- 
erick William IV., had as usual permitted himself to be intimi- 
dated by the other European powers, concluded in the name 
of the German Confederation a truce with Denmark — -the so- 
called ' truce of Malmo " — in which it was agreed that the 
victorious German troops were to retire from the duchies, 
that the duchies were to lose their own provisional govern- 
ment, and that a commission composed of two Prussians, two 
Danes and a fifth member to be elected by them was to govern 
the disputed country. At the same time all the laws and ordi- 
nances that had been issued by the Schleswig-Holstein au- 
thorities since the days of March, 1848, were declared invaliHT] 
This truce called forth the greatest indignation all over Ger-** 
many. The representative assembly of Schleswig-Holstein 
protested. The national parliament in Frankfurt, which saw 
not only the honor of Germany greviously compromised, but 
its own authority overruled by these proceedings of the 
Prussian government, resolved on September 5 to refuse the 
recognition of the truce of Malmo and to demand the suspen- 
sion of all the measures stipulated therein. But after several 
failures to form a new ministry on the basis of this resolution, 
and not daring to bring the question of authority between 
itself and the Prussian government to a direct issue, the par- 
liament revoked the resolution of September 5, ten days later, 
and declared at the same time that the execution of the truce of 
Malmo could apparently no longer be hindered. This declara- 
tion, which seemed to strike the sympathies of the German 
people full in the face, caused immense excitement, of which 

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THE REMINISCENCES OE CARL SCHURZ 
the revolutionary leaders in Frankfurt and the surrounding 
country at once took advantage. On the next day a large 
mass meeting was held on a meadow near Frankfurt. Inflam- 
matory speeches goaded the passions of the multitude to fury, 
and the meeting adopted resolutions by which the members of 
the majority of the national parliament in Frankfurt were 
branded as traitors to the German nation. Troops of armed 
democrats poured in from all sides, and an attempt was made 
to force the parliament to revoke the hateful declaration, or to 
drive out the traitorous majority. Two prominent conser- 
vative members of the parliament, Count Auerswald and 
Prince Lichnowsky, fell into the hands of the revolutionists 
and were killed; and then followed a bloody struggle in the 
streets of Frankfurt, in which the insurgents soon succumbed 
to the quickly concentrated troops. 

When on my way to Eisenach I arrived in Frankfurt, the 
victorious soldiery still bivouacked on the streets around their 
burning campfires; the barricades had not yet been removed; 
the pavement was still stained with blood, and everywhere the 
heavy tramp of military patrols was heard. With difficulty I 
made my way to the hotel " Zum Schwan," where I was to 
meet, according to agreement, some Heidelberg students, in 
order to continue in their company the journey to Eisenach. 
With hearts full of gloom we sat together deep into the night; 
for we all felt that the cause of liberty and of popular sover- ; 
eignty had received a terrible blow. The royal Prussian 
government had successfully defied the national parliament, 
which represented the sovereignty of the German nation. 
Those who called themselves " the people " had made a hostile 
attempt upon the embodiment of popular sovereignty which 
had issued from the revolution, and this embodiment of popu- 
lar sovereignty had been obliged to call upon the armed forces 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
of the princes for protection against the hatred of " the 
• people." Thus the backbone of the revolution begun in 
March, 1848, was substantially broken. We young students 
indeed did not see so far. But we felt that terrible mischief 
had been done. Our youthful spirits, however, consoled them- 
selves with the hope that what was lost might still be recovered 
by well-directed and energetic action under more favorable 
circumstances. 

The next day I visited with some of my friends the gal- 
lery of St. Paul's Church, in which the national parliament 
held its sessions. With that profound reverence, the organ of 
which (to express myself in the language of phrenology) has 
always been with me very strongly developed, I looked at that 
historic spot, in which the fate of the revolution of 1848 was 
already foretold. On " the right " there sat, with a smile of 
triumph on their lips, men whose principal aim it was to restore 
the old order of things; in "the center" the advocates of a 
liberal constitutional monarchy, tormented by anxious doubt 
as to whether they could control the revolutionary tendencies 
without making the absolutist reaction all-powerful; on "the 
left ' the democrats and republicans with the oppressive con- 
sciousness that the masses of the people, in whom they were to 
find the source of their power, had grievously compromised 
them by this wild eruption of passion at Frankfurt and had 
thus put the most dangerous weapon into the hands of the 
reactionists. 

I remember well the men whom my eyes most eagerly 
sought. On " the right " Radowitz, whose finely chiseled face, 
somewhat oriental in its character, looked like a sealed book 
containing the secret of reactionary politics; in "the center" 
Heinrich von Gagern, with his imposing stature and heavy 
eyebrows; on "the left" the Silenus-head of Robert Blum, 

[144] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
whom many regarded as the ideal man of the people; and the 
little shriveled figure of the old poet, Ludwig Uhland, whose 
songs we had so often sung, and who with such touching fidel- 
ity stood by that which he believed to be the good right of his 
people ! 

In the evening we traveled on to Eisenach, and soon I 
found myself in the midst of a company that could not have 
been more congenial. 

The pleasant little town of Eisenach, at the foot of the 
Wartburg, where Luther translated the Bible into good Ger- 
man and threw his inkstand at the head of the devil, had re- 
peatedly been selected by the old Burschenschaft as the 
theater of its great demonstrations. The object of the present 
student-congress consisted mainly in the national organiza- 
tion of German university men with an executive committee 
to facilitate united action. There were also to be discussed 
various reforms needed at the universities, of which however, 
so far as I can remember, nobody could give an entirely 
clear account. We organized ourselves according to parlia- 
mentary rules so that our oratorical performances might begin 
at once. All the German universities, including those of 
Austria, having sent delegations to this congress, the meeting 
was large in numbers and contained many young men of un- 
common gifts. Those who attracted the most attention both 
within and without our assembly were the Viennese, of whom 
nine or ten had reported themselves. They wore the handsome 
uniform of the famous " academic legion " — black felt hats 
with ostrich plumes, blue coats with black shining buttons, tri- 
colored, black-red-gold sashes, bright steel-handled swords, 
light gray trousers, and silver-gray cloaks lined with scarlet. 
They looked like a troop of knights of old. When the citizens 
of Eisenach, who had received up with most cordial kindness, 

[145] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
gave a ball in our honor, all competition with the Viennese 
for the favors of the fair sex was in vain. But it was not 
their outward appearance alone that distinguished them. 
They were men of marked ability and already had a history 
behind them which made them an object of general interest 
and appealed in a high degree to the imagination. 

Nowhere had the university students played so important 
and prominent a part in the revolutionary movement as in 
Vienna. To them was largely owing the uprising that drove 
Prince Metternich from power. The " academic legion," 
which they organized and which, if I am not mistaken, counted 
about 6000 men, formed the nucleus of the armed power of 
the revolution. In the " central committee," which consisted of 
an equal number of students and members of the citizens' 
guard, and which stood for the will of the people as against 
the government, they exercised a preponderant influence. Dep- 
utations of citizens and peasants came from all parts of Austria 
to present their grievances and petitions to the "' Aula," the 
headquarters of the students, which had suddenly risen as an 
authority omnipotent in the opinion of the multitude. When 
the imperial ministry was about to promulgate a new press- 
law, which indeed abolished the censorship but still contained 
many restrictions, its chief requested the students to express 
their judgment about that law. And on May 15 the students 
at the head of the armed people forced the government by 
their determined attitude to revoke the constitution which the 
government had framed on its own authority, and to promise 
the convocation of the constituent assembly. The students 
successfully maintained their organization against various at- 
tempts of the government to dissolve it. They compelled the 
ministry to agree to the removal of the soldiery from the city 
of Vienna and to the formation of a committee of public 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
safety, which was to consist principally of the members of the 
students' organization. So independent and so comprehensive 
a power was confided to it that in several important respects 
it stood by the side of the ministry as co-ordinate. Without its 
consent, for instance, no military force should be employed in 
the city. Thus it might have been said without much exagger- 
ation that for a certain time the students of Vienna governed 
Austria. 

It was, therefore, not astonishing that the Viennese le- 
gionaries, who had already made so much history, were among 
us regarded as the heroes of the day, and that with eager 
attention we listened to their reports about the condition of 
things in their country. Those reports, however, opened a 
prospect of further serious troubles if not of a tragical end, 
and of this our Viennese friends were sadly conscious. They 
knew that the victories of the Austrian Field Marshal Radetzki 
in Italy over Carlo Alberto, the king of Piedmont, would 
give Austria's army new prestige and the reactionary court- 
party new power; that this court-party systematically in- 
flamed and used the Czechs against the Germans in Austria; 
that the presence in the capital of the constituent assembly, 
the convocation of which the students themselves had asked 
for, would greatly impair the power of the revolutionary au- 
thorities; that in the civic guards and in the committee of 
public safety mischievous dissensions had broken out; that the 
court-party derived from all these things great advantage and 
would avail itself of the first favorable opportunity to sweep 
away the fruits of the revolution in general, and to suppress 
the students' organization in particular, and that the decisive 
struggle would come soon. 

These presentiments sometimes fell like dark shadows 
upon our otherwise so jovial conviviality, and it required all 

[147] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
the elasticity of youthful spirits to console us with the hope 
that finally all would be well. 

While we were still planning various excursions from 
Eisenach into the surrounding country, our Viennese friends 
informed us that they had received letters from the " Aula ' : 
about the threatening situation of things, which obliged them 
to return to Vienna without delay. They parted from us with 
a real " morituri salutamus." ' In a few days," they said, " we 
shall have to fight a battle in Vienna, and then you may look 
for our names on the list of the dead." I still see one of them 
before me — he was a young man of rare beauty, by the name 
of Valentin — who spoke those words. Thus our admired 
Viennese legionaries took leave of us, and we trembled in 
appreciating how terribly and how quickly their prediction 
might come true. 

The rest of us also were now obliged to think of journey- 
ing home. The only practical object of the student-congress 
was accomplished. The general organization of the German 
university men had been resolved upon and the executive au- 
thority designated. Subjects for further discussions there were 
none. The funds of many of us too were beginning to run low. 
But with every hour our parting appeared harder to bear. We 
had come to love one another so much and our companionship 
was so enjoyable that we strained our inventive genius to the 
utmost to save at least a few days. At last we took an inventory 
of the money that was still in our pockets in order to form a 
common purse, out of which, after the means necessary for our 
respective homeward journey had been reserved, the cost of 
further convivial pleasures was to be defrayed. In this way we 
really gained a few days which we enjoyed to our heart's 
content and at once some festivities were planned, one of which 
came very near having a bad end. 

[148] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
One evening we marched up to the Wartburg. There a 
plenteous spread with beer awaited us, having consumed which, 
we were in the dusk of evening to march down the mountain 
to the town by the light of torches. As the merry students had 
become great favorites with the population of Eisenach, a 
multitude of citizens, and among them a considerable number 
of soldiers, who were in garrison in Eisenach, accompanied us 
to take part in our jollification. As was the custom of the time, 
political speeches were made during the entertainment, and the 
indignation against the princes, especially the king of Prussia, 
on account of the truce of Malmo being still very bitter, some 
of those speeches assumed a decidedly republican tone. Pres- 
ently the excitement grew hot, and some of the soldiers threw 
up their caps, cheered for the Republic, and declared that they * 
would put themselves under the order of the students. Mean- 
while evening had come and the whole company, preceded and 
surrounded by burning torches, and singing patriotic songs, 
marched down the forest road to Eisenach. This spectacle was 
charming, but the effect produced upon the soldiers by the rev- 
olutionary speeches made some of us a little uncomfortable as 
to results. So far as any of us knew, there was no under- 
standing with other parts of the country which would have 
insured to a popular uprising in Thuringia any outside sup- 
port, and to incite harmless people, especially soldiers, to a 
revolutionary attempt, without plan or purpose, which could 
have for them only very mischievous consequences, appeared 
to me for one in a high degree objectionable. If, however, 
which was probable, nothing came of it beyond what had al- 
ready happened, there would be no serious harm ; and with this 
comforting hope I went to bed, not knowing what was hap- 
pening in the meantime. The following morning I heard that 
a large part of the multitude that had participated in our festi- 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
val on the Wartburg had gone on to a public resort. There the 
speechmaking was continued; the number of soldiers among 
the audience had largely increased, and these had with remark- 
able unanimity and in a tumultuous way again cheered the 
Republic, and finally refused obedience to some officers present 
who had ordered them to go away. During the night the ex- 
citement had spread among the soldiers until well-nigh the 
whole military garrison of Eisenach was in a condition of ac- 
tual mutiny. The officers had lost all control. Troops of sol- 
diers now came to us with the request that we students should 
put ourselves at their head. This indeed had not been the pur- 
pose of the speechmakers of yesterday, who now had to use 
every possible effort to prevent further mischief. From Wei- 
mar, the capital of the duchy, telegraphic orders arrived forth- 
with to remove to that city the soldiers garrisoned in Eisenach. 
But the soldiers stubbornly refused to go; they insisted upon 
remaining with the students. Now the civic guard of Eisenach 
was summoned to force the soldiers to depart. But when that 
civic guard was in line on the market-place, it did not show the 
least willingness to undertake the task. The guardsmen, rather, 
amused themselves with cheering the students. The embarrass- 
ment grew more and more serious. At last we succeeded in 
persuading the officers of the troops that all this was only 
a merry and light-hearted student frolic, and that the soldiers 
ought not to be held to account for having, amid the general 
hilarity, and perhaps under the influence of excessive potations, 
fraternized with the students. The officers at last were induced 
to take the jocular view of the matter, and we engaged our- 
selves to bring the soldiers back to their duty, if the authorities 
promised that nothing would happen to them in consequence 
of this escapade. The promise came at once and now we suc- 
ceeded in persuading the soldiers quietly to rally around their 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
colors. Fortunately it was at that time still possible in the 
small states of Germany to arrange such things in so good- 
natured a manner. In Prussia an occurrence of this kind would 
have produced very serious consequences. 

After this performance we felt that now it was indeed 
time for us to depart from Eisenach and to go home. Our 
financial resources too were very nearly exhausted. On the 
evening before our departure we had a last great carousal in 
the Rathskeller. One of us, if I remember rightly a student 
from Konigsberg, who had distinguished himself by wearing a 
Polish cap and by indulging in extremely revolutionary 
phraseology, made the motion that before parting we should 
issue an address to the German people and let them know our 
opinion about the existing condition of things, and then ad- 
monish them closely to watch and with all possible energy to 
resist the advancing reaction. That such a proclamation, at 
such a moment, coming from such a lot of young persons, could 
have an aspect intensely comical, did not occur to us. The mo- 
tion was discussed with the greatest seriousness and unani- 
mously adopted. The address was drawn up at once. Then, 
with the signatures of the committee, to which I too had the 
honor of belonging, it was printed the same night, posted on 
the walls of the city hall and of various other public buildings, 
and sent to several newspapers for further publication. This 
having been done, we sang several patriotic songs and then we 
parted after tender embraces and vows of eternal friendship. 
Early the next morning we scattered in all directions. 

On the way home an extremely sober feeling came over 
me. In Frankfurt I still found a ' state of siege " and a 
gloomy atmosphere of anxiety. The day was cloudy, damp 
and cold when I went down the Rhine on the steamboat. 
Among the passengers I did not see a single familiar face. 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
As I sat hour after hour alone and shivering on the deck, 
disquieting thoughts began to trouble me, not only about 
the general course of things, but also for the first time about 
my own personal safety. I remembered the wording of the 
address which we had published in Eisenach, and which con- 
tained several sharp attacks upon the majority of the national 
parliament and upon the Prussian government. I remem- 
bered also to have read in the papers that the parliament 
in consequence of the September revolt had passed a law 
which imposed a heavy penalty upon utterances insulting to 
its members. Had we not actually committed that crime in 
our published address? Undoubtedly; and thus I began to 
picture to myself how after my arrival in Bonn I would soon 
be arrested, and on account of the press-offense against the 
national parliament and the Prussian government put on 
trial. Of course I resolved to suffer courageously for my con- 
victions. What troubled me more was the thought that our 
address probably would have no other effect than this. But 
my apprehension, that I would be arrested and punished 
proved to be entirely superfluous. If our proclamation had 
really come to the knowledge of the government, the authori- 
ties probably did not think it worth while to take any notice of 
it ; and I drew from this the lesson — a not at all flattering one 
— that we young people might possibly appear to others much 
less important than to ourselves. Before long, however, con- 
flicts really serious arrived. 

Momentous news from Vienna confirmed the predictions 
of our Viennese friends in Eisenach. Hungary had in the days 
of March asserted a high degree of political autonomy under a 
' personal union " with Austria. It had its own ministry re- 
siding in Pesth, without whose counter-signature no order of 
the Austrian emperor concerning Hungary should be valid. 

[152] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
Without the assent of the Hungarian legislature no Hunga- 
rian troops should he employed outside of the boundaries of 
Hungary, nor should non-Hungarian troops enter within those 
boundaries. The " Archduke Palatin," an Austrian prince, 
should as Viceroy of Hungary, have his residence in Pesth. In 
addition to this, the German and Slavic districts, which so far 
had been considered as belonging to Hungary, should remain as 
integral parts of the country subject to the Hungarian gov- 
ernment. The to a large extent independent Hungarian 
government Avas an object of detestation to the Austrian 
court-party. That party resorted to various intrigues, which 
resulted in a direct breach between the Austrian and Hun- 
garian governments, in the killing of an imperial emissary by an 
excited multitude in Pesth, and in the creation by the Hun- 
garians of a national government-commission in Hungary, 
followed by a proclamation from the Austrian emperor which 
virtually amounted to a declaration of war. The Hungarians 
prepared for the struggle, and when in October Austrian troops 
were dispatched from Vienna for the subjugation of Hungary, 
the people of Vienna, the students at their head, rose in revolt 
against their own government, w T ith the feeling that the at- 
tempt to destroy the constitutional rights of the Hungarians 
was at the same time directed against the rights of the German 
Austrians, and against all the fruits of the revolution. The 
minister of war, Count Latour, was hanged to a lamp-post by 
an infuriated crowd. After a bloody fight the insurrectionists 
controlled the city. The commander of the garrison, Count 
Auersperg, found himself obliged to evacuate the town, but 
he entrenched himself in a strong position outside, and was 
soon reinforced by large bodies of troops under Prince 
Windischgratz. Windischgratz took command of the army, 
attacked the city of Vienna on October 23, and after long 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
and bloody struggles he put down the last resistance on the 
31st. Vienna was then subjected to the unlimited arbitrariness 
of military rule, and the revolutionary movement in German 
Austria had an end. Several of the chivalrous legionaries, 
with whom we students had enjoyed such sunny days in 
Eisenach, had fallen in the battle, and the rest were fugitives. 
With this catastrophe coincided a marked turn of affairs 
in Prussia. Since March the Prussian government had moved 
in constitutional forms, and the ministry, at the head of which 
stood the liberal General von Pfuel, showed itself willing to 
fulfill the promises that had been given. But the king and his 
immediate surroundings had on various occasions manifested 
a disposition which hardly harmonized with those pledges and 
called forth grave apprehensions. On October 31 the Prus- 
sian Constituent Assembly gave voice to the general sympathy 
with the struggling people of Vienna and resolved to request 
his Majesty's government " to take speedy and energetic steps 
to induce the German central power in Frankfurt to effect- 
ually protect the imperiled liberties of the people in the Ger- 
man districts of Austria, and to restore peace." The president 
of the ministry, General von Pfuel, supported this resolution. 
The next day he found himself compelled to resign, and the 
king then appointed a ministry of decidedly reactionary char- 
acter, at the head of which he put Count Brandenburg, and 
the leading spirit of which was Herr von Manteuff el. The 
Constituent Assembly solemnly protested, but in vain.l On 
November 9 the Brandenburg ministry presented itself to the 
Assembly with a royal message which transferred the meetings 
of that body to another place and prorogued its sessions until 
November 27. By a large majority the Assembly denied the 
right of the royal government to do these things, but the next 
day the house was surrounded by large bodies of troops under 

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THE REMINISCENCES OE CARL SCHURZ 
General Wrangel, who gave the order that nobody should be 
permitted to enter, but anybody might leave the building. On 
November 11 the civil guard of Berlin was dissolved and 
in a few days disarmed. The Assembly moved from one 
place to another, constantly followed by the soldiery, until 
finally on November 15, at its last meeting, it refused to 
vote the supplies, and declared " that this ministry had no 
right to dispose of the moneys of the state or to levy taxes, so 
long as the Constituent Assembly could not undisturbed con- 
tinue its deliberations in Berlin." These events called forth 
immense excitement all over the country. They seemed to 
prove that the reactionary court-parties were determined to 
sweep away by force all the fruits of the revolution. 

That the Constituent Assembly in opposing the :< coup 
d'etat " was altogether within its right, admitted of no doubt 
in the minds of the democrats. They blamed it only for not 
having made the fullest use of its right by calling the people 
directly to arms, and for having at this moment of great deci- 
sion limited itself to the weak-kneed policy of ' passive resist- 
ance." But they thought that this passive resistance by means 
of a general refusal to pay taxes might finally force the gov- 
ernment to yield, assuming that the refusal to pay taxes 
would become general and be maintained with inflexible 
steadiness. 

The democrats in Bonn, among whom we students played y 
a prominent part, were zealous in demonstrating their deter- 
mination to support the Constituent Assembly. The declaration 
that we would refuse the payment of taxes coming from the 
students looked somewhat like a huge joke, because we had none 
to pay. The problem we had to solve, therefore, consisted in 
persuading other people to refuse to pay their taxes. We be- 
lieved we could strike a demonstrative blow by stopping the 

[155] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
levying of octroi duties which were levied at the gates of the city 
on the food-stuffs brought to the town. We did this in driv- 
ing the revenue officers from their posts, which pleased the 
peasants, who were at once ready to bring their products free 
of duty into the city. This led to conflicts with the police in 
which, however, we easily had the upper hand. 

Now it appeared to us unnecessary to seize upon the general 
machinery of the tax-department. The next day a committee, 
of which I was a member, appeared at the city hall to take 
possession of it. The Burgomaster received us with great po- 
liteness and listened quietly to what we had to say to him about 
the authority of the Constituent Assembly and its power to stop 
the payment of taxes; but he tried to amuse us with all sorts 
of evasive talk. At last we became impatient and demanded 
an immediate and definite answer according to which we would 
resolve upon further measures. Suddenly we noticed a change 
in the expression of the Burgomaster's face. He seemed to 
hearken to something going on outside and then, still politely 
but with a sort of triumphant smile on his lips, he said: 
' Gentlemen, your answer you will have to receive from some- 
body else. Do you hear that?' Now we hearkened too, and 
heard a still distant, but approaching, sound of a military band 
playing the Prussian national air. The music sounded nearer 
and nearer in the street leading up from the Rhine. In a few 
minutes it reached the market-place and behind it came the 
heavy tramp of an infantry column which presently filled a 
large part of the square in front of the city hall. Our conver- 
sation with the Burgomaster of course came to a sudden end 
and we thought it very decent on his part that he permitted us 
to leave the building undisturbed. 

The appearance of the military was easily explained. As 
soon as we began to refuse the payment of taxes, the authorities 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
in Bonn, which at that time had no garrison, had telegraphed 
to the nearest fortress for aid, and the call was promptly re- 
sponded to. This of course put a stop to our doings in the 
matter of stopping the payment of taxes. The soldiers at once 
occupied the gates of the city and the octroi duties were levied 
as before. In the evening we had a meeting of our democratic 
committee to consider what was next to be done. The first 
impulse was to attack the soldiers and if possible to drive them 
out of the town. This would have been a desperate enterprise, 
but it was taken seriously in view. After mature consideration, 
however, we all recognized that a fight in Bonn, even a success- 
ful one, could have real importance only as a part of a more 
general uprising. Cologne was naturally regarded as the 
capital of the Rhineland and as the central focus for all 
political movements. It was there we had to seek our support, 
and from there to get our orders. We had already received 
from Cologne a report that feverish excitement prevailed in 
that city, and that the signal for a general uprising was to be 
expected from the democratic leaders. For this we were to pre- 
pare quietly and quickly, but we were to avoid everything like 
an isolated attempt. We sent a messenger to Cologne to in- 
form our friends of what had occurred in Bonn and to get 
further instructions. In the meantime we made arrangements 
to collect as many as possible of the muskets of our civic-guard 
and to make cartridges, which was done with great zeal. 

But now disquieting news came about what happened in 
the vicinity of the gates of the city. Large crowds of peasants 
from the neighboring villages had assembled outside. They 
had received information about the coming of the soldiers to 
Bonn and thought that the democrats and the students must 
be in great danger. They had now come to help us. Many of 
them probably imagined the expulsion of the troops from the 

[157] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
city to be as easy as had been the driving away of the tax 
officers from the gates. Some of them were spoiling for a fight. 
We had indeed reason for apprehending that they would press 
into the city and involve us in a street-battle with the soldiers 
under very unfavorable circumstances. It was not an easy 
task to persuade those impatient people to go home and to keep 
themselves ready to aid us as soon as the signal for action should 
come from Cologne. The whole night our committee waited 
for the return of the messenger we had sent there. About day- 
break we separated, but only to meet again after a short rest. 
The preparations for war continued in the meantime. Not one 
of us slept in his own quarters, so as not to be easily found in 
case the authorities should try to arrest us. I took refuge in a 
friend's room that was filled with muskets and cases of cart- 
ridges which were stored there ready for distribution. 

Our messenger did not return from Cologne before even- 
ing of the next day. He reported that our friends did not 
feel themselves able to attempt a blow with any prospect of 
success against the large masses of troops gathered there ; that 
they would confine themselves to the continuation of the " pas- 
sive resistance," and that they urgently recommended to us to 
abstain from all violent steps until further orders. Nothing 
remained to us therefore but to swallow our wrath and to keep 
our friends in the open country quiet. What happened with 
us, happened all over the kingdom of Prussia. The Constituent 
Assembly had yielded to the government a bloodless victory and 
the resolution to refuse the payment of taxes soon became a 
dead letter. 

But it looked as if the whole affair would come home to 
the democratic leaders among the students in a disagreeable 
way. There was a rumor that against three or four of us, 
against me among others, warrants had been issued, and that 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
we had to expect our arrest any moment. Whether it was really 
so, I did not know, but it was so believed; and our friends went 
at once to work to protect us from harm. They spread the im- 
pression among the citizens of Bonn that if we were touched 
by the police, all the students would quit the city. Now, as the 
prosperity of Bonn depended in a great measure upon the 
presence of the students, this caused no little alarm among the 
good burghers. Many of them urgently asked the Burgo- 
master to use his whole influence to obtain from the higher 
authorities the promise that nothing should happen to us, and 
thus to avert the threatening calamity. In fact we were in- 
formed by our friends in the course of a few days that such a 
promise had indeed been given, and that for once we should 
escape unharmed. We therefore left our hiding places, and I 
continued to write for our newspaper, to address meetings and 
to attend lectures, so far as I could find time to do so. 

Frederick William IV., after having won his victory over 
the Constituent Assembly, felt himself strong enough to give 
to Prussia a constitution of his own exclusive making, without 
submitting it for assent to the representatives of the people. 
This constitution of his provided for a Diet consisting of two 
Chambers. The Chambers were convoked at once and Kinkel 
stepped forward in Bonn as a candidate for the lower House. 
He was elected by a large majority, and had to take his seat 
soon after. Frau Kinkel accompanied him to Berlin. Although 
they sent me regular contributions for the columns of the)*. 
Bonner Zeitung, the daily duties of the editorship fell upon 
my shoulders during their absence as a very heavy burden of 
unaccustomed work. 

The Bonner Zeitung having only a very small editorial 
staff, I had not only to furnish political articles, but also many 
other things which a daily paper must offer to its readers — 

[159] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
among others the reports about the stage. A theater had been 
established in Bonn which gave respectable performances, and 
even light opera. To the Bonner Zeitung the director of the 
theater assigned a box for its reporters, the principal reporter 
having so far been Mine. Kinkel. This box was now at my 
disposal, and I occupied it, not only when journalistic duties 
called me to witness the performance of a new play, but some- 
times also when I felt the want of a little relaxation from my 
many labors and cares. Here I must confess that to these 
labors and cares an affair of the heart had been added. 

Until this time no woman outside of my family-circle had 
played any part in my life, perhaps largely because of my 
excessive bashfulness. At length inevitable fate laid its hand 
upon me too. I really fell in love, head over heels, at first 
sight, with a beautiful young lady. She was the daughter of 
a little merchant. Her name was Betty. I had never been 
introduced to her and we had never exchanged a word. I 
had only seen her sitting at her window, occupied with 
embroidery; still oftener with a book in her hand, I had fre- 
quently passed by this window, and almost always she sat 
there. Sometimes our eyes met, and I then was conscious 
of blushing all over. From a friend of hers I heard that she 
was reading Shakespeare in the English original, which 
gave me a high idea of her mental gifts and acquirements. 
The sly manner in which I sometimes turned the conversation 
with that friend in the direction of Betty, was, of course, self- 
betraying; and from what he told me in return, I was happy 
to suspect that Betty too was aware of my existence. I ardently 
longed to know her and soon found a to me surprisingly fav- 
orable opportunity. 

One evening while sitting in the theater-box, — Flotow's 
opera " Martha " was on the stage, — two ladies took seats in the 

[160] 



THE REMINISCENCES OE CARL SCHURZ 
one adjoining mine. A few minutes later I turned and could 
hardly believe my eyes when, with a violent heart jump, I sud- 
denly became aware that only the low partition between the 
boxes separated me from Betty. Soon the ladies began to look 
around for something and I heard them say that they had left 
their opera-glasses at home. Here was an evident opportunity 
for me. I held my own opera-glass in my hand. What more 
natural than to offer it to Betty with a polite word? Indeed, 
was it not positively impolite not to do so? But— but— the 
necessary words would not come. I sat completely paralyzed 
and tongue-tied throughout the whole play. Finally the ladies 
left the box and with them my long hoped-for opportunity. I 
rushed from the theater, tormenting myself with self-re- 
proach, and instead of going, as I had intended, to the Fran- 
conia, I took a long, lonely walk in the night. But soon this 
love-dream became more shadowy than ever, for events oc- 
curred which tore me altogether out of my surroundings. 

Of the larger parliamentary bodies that had issued from 
the revolution of March, only the national parliament in Frank- 
furt was still in existence. That existence it had owed to 
the longing of the German people, or rather the German peo- 
ples, for national unity, and it was its natural and universally 
understood mission to weld the German peoples under a com- 
mon constitution of national government into one great nation. 
Immediately after the revolution of March, 1848, the differ- 
ent German governments, and with them also Austria, because 
of her German possessions, had recognized this object as a legit- 
imate one, and it was with their co-operation that in May the 
elections for the national parliament had taken place. The 
large majority of that body, in fact, the German people in * 
general, regarded the Frankfurt parliament as the specific 
representative of the sovereignty of the German nation. It 

[161] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
was to be expected that the princes and those of their adher- 
ents, who may be designated as court-parties, would submit to 
this conception of the powers of the parliament, only so long, 
and only so far, as they found themselves forced to do so. But 
few of the princes, if any, were sufficiently liberal to accept a 
limitation of their princely prerogatives with equanimity. 
Every gain of the people in the matter of political power they 
felt to be their own loss. Of course they were also opposed to 
the institution of a strong national government for the reason 
that this would be conditioned upon the surrender to the 
national authority of many of the sovereignty-rights of the 
different states. It was not only a national republic that the 
individual German sovereigns feared, but they also dreaded a 
national Kaiser who would be apt to reduce them to the con- 
dition of mere vassals. The German princes, with the excep- 
tion of the one who could hope himself to occupy the imperial 
throne, were therefore the natural adversaries_of German 
unity, embodied in a strong national government. There may 
have been some men of national sentiment among them 
capable of overcoming this reluctance, but certainly there were 
very few. Austria desired a united Germany in some form, 
only if it could hope to occupy in it the position of the lead- 
ing power. 

Face to face with the princes and their parties stood the 
national parliament in Frankfurt, that child of the revolution, 
which might then have almost been called the orphan of 
the revolution. It had at its immediate disposal no administra- 
tive machinery, no army, no treasury, only its moral authority ; 
all the other things were in the hands of the different German 
state governments. The only power of the national parliament 
consisted in the will of the people. And this power was suffi- 
cient for the fulfillment of its mission so long as the will of the 

[162] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
people proved itself strong enough, even through revolutionary 
action in case of necessity, to counteract the adverse interests 
of the princes. The parliament would have been sure of success 
in creating a constitutional German empire, if it had performed 
that task quickly and elected and put into office its Kaiser while 
the revolutionary prestige of the people was still unbroken — 
that is to say, in the first two or three months after the revolu- 
tion of March. No German prince would then have declined 
the imperial crown with a constitution ever so democratic, and 
not one of them would have dared to refuse the sacrifice of any 
of his sovereignty-rights to the national power. 

But that parliament was laboring under an over- 
abundance of learning and virtue and under a want of that 
political experience and sagacity which recognizes that the 
better is often the enemy of the good, and that the true states- 
man will be careful not to imperil that which is essential by 
excessive insistence upon things which are of comparatively 
little consequence. | The world has probably never seen a polit- 
ical assembly that contained a larger number of noble, learned, 
conscientious and patriotic men, and it will be difficult to find 
a book of the same character richer in profound knowledge and 
in models of lofty eloquence than its stenographic reports. But 
it did not possess the genius that promptly discerns opportunity 
and with quick resolution takes fortune by the forelock; it was 
not mindful of the fact that in times of great commotion the 
history of the world does not wait for the theoretical thinker. 
And thus it failed. 

The parliament indeed recognized soon after its opening, 
that, if it was not to remain a mere constituent assembly, but 
also, until the constitution should be completed, a temporary 
government, an executive organ was required; and thus it 
resolved upon the institution of a " provisional central power," 

[163] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
with a sort of lieutenant-emperor at its head. To this office it 
elected the Archduke Johann of Austria, who enjoyed the 
reputation of heing a liberal. He was authorized by the par- 
liament to appoint an imperial ministry. But, as mentioned 
before, his minister of foreign affairs had no diplomatic ma- 
chinery under him; his minister of war had no soldiers except 
such as were lent to him by some of the several state govern- 
ments ; and his minister of finance no fiscal machinery, no tax- 
levies, and no money except what the several state govern- 
ments contributed. All the things which together constitute 
the substantial force of a government remained after all in 
the control of the several German states. The real source of 
its power was therefore after all nothing but the revolutionary 
strength of the people. At the end of the year 1848 this rev- 
olutionary strength did not confront the princes and the court- 
parties any longer in so imposing a shape as it had done in the 
spring. A large portion of the people who had been so enthu- 
siastic in March had become more or less tired of the constant 
excitements, while the princes and their adherents had to a 
large extent recovered from the terrors of March, had assured 
themselves of the administrative machinery and of the fidelity 
of their armies, and had been keeping their aims steadily in 
view — in point of fact had, at the great political centers, Vienna 
and Berlin, inflicted very grievous defeats upon the revolution- 
ary spirit. The possibility of new revolutionary action on a 
large scale had therefore grown very much less. Under these 
circumstances the national parliament could indeed issue its 
ordinances and have them proclaimed through the national 
executive, but the governments of the several German states 
felt that they need not pay much more attention to them than 
than they pleased. And yet, the parliament had still its 
principal task before it: to complete the constitution of the 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
German empire, to introduce it practically, and thereby to 
satisfy th*e great national want of the German people. 

It was still engaged in learned and arduous debates about 
the fundamental right, and liberties the German citizens should 
possess ; it still had to solve doubts as to whether Germany should 
have a Reichstag to be elected by all the people and whether 
the head of the national government should be a hereditary or 
only an elective Kaiser, or a President, or instead of a single 
head, an executive committee. It had still to determine of 
what countries and parts of countries the German empire 
should consist; whether the German-Austrian districts should 
form a part of it, and which of the two German great powers, 
Austria or Prussia, should in this event have the hegemony. 
The parliamentary struggle on these questions lasted long, 
and only, when the reactionary Austrian minister, Prince 
Felix Schwarzenberg, demanded that the whole of Austria, 
organized as a united state with its nearly thirty millions of 
non-German inhabitants, should form part of the German 
empire — a demand with which the creation of a really Ger- 
man national union seemed entirely incompatible — only then 
did the parliament come to a decision. The majority declared 
itself for a hereditary Kaiser, and on March 28, 1849, elected 
to that office the King of Prussia. 

However unpopular Prussia and the Prussian king were 
outside the boundaries of that kingdom, especially in South 
Germany, and however little the democratic party desired 
the creation of an executive head to the German empire 
in the shape of a hereditary Kaiser, yet when the work of 
German unity appeared at last completed, the national en- 
thusiasm Was once more kindled into a joyous flame. A commit- 
tee consisting of thirty-three members of the national par- 
liament, headed by its president, betook itself to Berlin, 

[ 1G5 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
receiving on the way the most spirited manifestations of popu- 
lar joy, to offer to the King of Prussia the constitutional 
headship of the empire. 

And now came the bitterest disappointment of all. It 
was indeed well known that Frederick William IV., full of his 
absolutist mysticism, had never at heart recognized the sove- 
reign character of the national parliament as a constituent 
assembly, and that he had claimed for the king of Prussia 
as well as for the other German princes the right to revise the 
constitution itself. It was also generally understood that that 
constitution, as it came from the hands of the national par- 
liament, was too democratic to suit his taste. But when all the 
German governments, with the exception of those of Bavaria, 
Saxony and Hanover (Austria was no longer to be consid- 
ered), had yielded to the pressure of popular sentiment and 
declared themselves ready to accept the imperial constitution 
and the Kaiser, and it was certain that even the three opposing 
kings would offer no serious resistance, the people, still hopeful 
and confiding, believed that Frederick William IV. could not 
refuse the great offer. Had he not in March on the streets 
of Berlin solemnly declared that he would put himself at the 
head of the national movement, and that Prussia would be 
merged in a united Germany? How could he possibly reject 
and desire to destroy the work of national union at the very 
moment when it required for its completion only his assent and 
acceptance? But what happened? Frederick William IV. 
refused the crown. He had indulged himself in all sorts of 
fantastic dreams about the manner in which Germany might 
be united, but found that the constitution now presented to 
him in all essential points diverged seriously from his own con- 
ceits. The national parliament he thought had no right 
to offer to him or anybody else a crown; such an offer could, 

[166] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
in his opinion, legitimately be made only by a free resolution 
of the German princes]] Neither would the acceptance of the 
German imperial crown be compatible with his feelings of 
friendly obligations to Austria. These and similar reasons 
for the non-acceptance of the imperial constitution and the 
Kaisership were uttered by the king, partly in public, partly 
in private. 

It is quite possible that the most serious reason which 
frightened him lay in the probability that if he accepted the 
imperial crown, he might have to defend it by force of arms 
against Austria and Russia; and this apprehension appeared 
in an almost naive way in an answer which the king gave to 
the eloquent words of a member of the Frankfurt parlia- 
ment, Herr von Beckerath, urging him to accept: 'If you 
could have addressed your appeal to Frederick the Great, he 
would have been your man; but I am not a great ruler." In- 
deed, Frederick William IV. from the first day of his govern- 
ment to the pitiable end thereof sufficiently proved that he 
-^ was not made to be the first Kaiser of the new German empire. 
His refusal to accept the imperial crown and the constitution 
of the empire turned the general enthusiasm of the people 
throughout the country into general dismay and indigna- 
tion. On April 11 the national parliament declared that 
it would stand by the constitution it had made. By the 14th 
the legislative bodies of the governments of twenty-three Ger- 
man states had signified their acceptance of that constitution 
and of the election of the king of Prussia as Kaiser. But 
Frederick William IV. persisted in his declination, and the 
kings of Bavaria, Hanover and Saxony also continued to 
signify their unwillingness to assent. 

On May 4 the national parliament appealed to the " gov- 
ernments, the legislative bodies, the communities in the several 

[167] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
states and to the whole German people to stand up for the 
recognition and the introduction of the national constitution." 
This appeal sounded very much like a summons to arms, 
and in various parts of Germany it had already been antici- 
pated. In the Bavarian Palatinate, on the left bank of the 
Rhine, a detached province of the kingdom of Bavaria, the 
people had already on April 30 risen up with rare unanimity, 
and declared in immense mass-meetings that whatever the Ba- 
varian government might do, they would stand and fall with 
the national constitution. They went even farther. They insti- 
tuted a provisional government to replace the authorities acting 
under the king of Bavaria. The revolt rapidly spread to the 
neighboring grand duchy of Baden, where the whole army 
of that state, with the exception of a small body of cavalry, 
joined the revolt and surrendered to it the important fortress 
of Rastatt. The Grand Duke of Baden took to flight, and a 
provisional government composed of popular leaders as- 
sumed the place of his ministry. In the kingdom of Saxony 
the people of Dresden, the capital city, attempted to force the 
king to recognize the national constitution. There too the king 
found himself obliged to flee after a short struggle between 
the people and the military, and a provisional government was 
organized. The king of Saxony applied to the Prussian gov- 
ernment for aid. This was willingly granted, and after a bloody 
fight in the streets of Dresden the revolt was suppressed and 
the authority of the Saxon king restored by Prussian bayonets. 
What were the adherents of the national cause in Prussia 
to do while their king sent Prussian soldiers to overcome the 
national movement outside? Uprisings were attempted in 
Berlin and Breslau, but speedily overcome by— force of arms. 
In the Rhenish provinces the excitement was tremendous. In 
Cologne a meeting was held of the representatives of the 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
country communes, which almost unanimously demanded the 
recognition of the national constitution and threatened the 
defection of the Rhineland from the Prussian monarchy in 
case of non-compliance. But the Prussian government had 
long ceased to be frightened by mere mass-meetings or by 
high-sounding phrases, when there was not a strong revolu- 
tionary force behind them. 

Clearly, to save the national constitution, quick action 
was absolutely needed. Again the Rhenish people turned their 
eyes upon their capital, Cologne; but such masses of troops 
had been concentrated there that a rising would not have had 
the slightest prospect of success. In the manufacturing dis- 
tricts on the right bank of the Rhine the revolt really broke 
out. The immediate occasion was an order issued by the Prus- 
sian government to mobilize the army-corps of the Rhine prov- 
ince for the purpose of sending it against the defenders of the 
national constitution in the Bavarian Palatinate and in Baden, 
where provisional governments had been set up by the revo- 
lutionists. To this end the "Landwehr' : (military reserve) 
in the Rhineland and in Westphalia was called into active serv- 
ice. The members of the Landwehr were at that time, as they are 
now, men between twenty-five and thirty-five, peasants, trades- 
men, artisans, merchants or professional men, many of them 
fathers of young families. To interrupt their daily work and to 
leave their wives and children involved to most of them a heavy 
sacrifice. This sacrifice was all the heavier when they were called 
upon to help beat down those who in Baden and in the Palati- 
nate had risen for the unity of the fatherland and the liberty 
of the people, and with whom many, if not a large majority, of 
the members of the Landwehr warmly sympathized. So it 
happened that numerous meetings of the Landwehr men were 
held for the purpose of declaring that they would not obey the 

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THE REMINISCENCES OE CARL SCHURZ 
summons to arms. There was actual resistance at some of the 
depots where the Landwehr men were to receive their arms 
and equipments. In Diisseldorf, Iserlohn and Elberfeld, ap- 
parently formidable uprisings took place. 

Such uprisings could clearly have had a possibility of suc- 
cess only had they become general throughout the country ; and 
indeed it looked for a moment as if the disaffection of the 
members of the Landwehr in the Rhineland and Westphalia 
would spread and become the starting-point of a powerful 
general movement. But what was to be done had to be done 
quickly. 

In this aspect the question of the moment confronted 
us in Bonn. Kinkel had returned from Berlin and was on the 
spot. The Chamber, a member of which he was, had once more 
urged the king to recognize the national constitution and to 
accept the imperial crown, and the king thereupon had dis- 
solved it. Kinkel was then in Bonn the recognized democratic 
leader. Now he had to show his ability to act promptly or to 
relinquish the leadership to others in the decisive hour. He did 
not hesitate a moment. But what was to be done? That the 
Landwehr, at least the largest part thereof, did not wish to 
take up arms against the defenders of the national constitu- 
tion, was certain. But in order to maintain this refusal, the 
Landwehr had to take up arms against the Prussian govern- 
ment. To make this resistance effective, immediate organiza- 
tion on a large scale was necessary. If the members of the 
Landwehr were ready for that, they could do nothing simpler 
and better than to take possession of the arms which were 
stored in the different Landwehr armories, and then under 
their own leaders make front against the Prussian govern- 
ment. Such an armory was situated at Siegburg, a little town 
a short distance from Bonn on the right bank of the Rhine. It 

[170] 




KARL MARX 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
contained muskets and other equipments enough to arm a con- 
siderable body of fighters, who then, joined to the insurrec- 
tionists in the manufacturing districts, might have formed a 
respectable power and spread the rising in all directions. This 
was the thought which occurred with more or less clearness to 
the democrats in Bonn, and they found also a military head 
for the execution of the plan in the person of a late artillery 
lieutenant, Fritz Anneke, who came from Cologne. The 
Landwehr of the district had been summoned to Siegburg on 
May 11, to be mustered into service. Thus time was pressing. 

On May 10 we had in Bonn a meeting of Landwehr men 
from the town and the immediate neighborhood. During the 
morning hours a large multitude assembled in a public hall. 
The citizen elected to preside admonished the men to refuse 
obedience to the call of the Prussian government; if arms 
were to be taken up at all, it must be against those who sought 
to rob the German people of their liberty and unity. The men 
received this admonition with many signs of warm assent. 
The meeting continued during the whole day. The number of 
Landwehr men coming in increased from hour to hour. Dif- 
ferent speakers addressed them, all in the same sense, and, as 
it appeared, with the same effect. It was agreed that the blow 
against the armory at Siegburg should be struck the following 
night. To this end it was essential to hold the men together 
during the day, so that as large a number as possible might 
take part in the expedition. 

To keep the men together during the whole day was not 
easy. Some money had been raised to provide for their meals. 
But that alone was not sufficient. Kinkel, after having deliv- 
ered his last lecture at the university, spoke to the meeting at 
four o'clock of the afternoon. With glowing words he inflamed 
the patriotic sentiments of the audience, admonishing them ur- 

[171] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
gently to stay together, as now the hour of decisive action had 
come, and promised them at the conclusion of his speech that 
he would soon be with them again, to share their fate at the 
moment of danger. 

I spent part of the day at the meeting, and part with the 
executive committee of the democratic club. There we received 
the current reports from Elberfeld and from the democratic 
clubs of the neighborhood as to their readiness for action; 
and the arrangements were made for the march to Siegburg 
after dark. Specific instructions were given to every member. 

There was so much running to and fro during the whole 
day that many details of what happened are no longer in my 
memory. But I remember that as often as I appeared on the 
street, I was stopped by student-friends with the question 
what was in the wind, and whether they should march along 
with us; whereupon I told them what I had resolved myself to 
do in this crisis, and that each one of them would have to shape 
his conduct upon his own responsibility. Under the feverish 
excitement of the last days I had come to that desperate state 
of mind which will do and dare anything. It was evident to 
me that if the fruits of the revolution were to be saved, we 
must not shrink from any risk. 

I also vividly remember how at dusk of evening I went 
home to tell my parents what had happened and what I con- 
sidered it my duty to do, and to bid farewell to my family. 
Since the breaking out of the revolution my parents had taken 
the warmest interest in the course of events. They had 
always been enthusiastic in the cause of a united Germany and 
of free government. Our political sentiments were therefore 
in hearty accord. My father was a member of the democratic 
club, and rejoiced to see me among its most active members 
and to hear me speak. The noble nature of my mother had 

[ 172] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
always clung with enthusiastic zeal to what she considered to 
be right and just. Both had watched developments suffi- 
ciently to anticipate the approach of a catastrophe. The 
announcement I made to them did therefore not surprise 
them. It was not unexpected to them that I had to take part 
in an enterprise that was so dangerous and for me so full of 
consequences. At once they recognized my honorable obli- 
gation. To be sure, their hopes for the future rested upon me. 
I was to be the support of the family in the struggle for exist- 
ence. But without a moment's hesitation and without a word 
of complaint they gave up all for what they considered a duty 
of patriotism. Like the Spartan woman or the Roman matron 
of whom we read, my mother went to the room where my 
sword hung and gave it to me with the one admonition 
that I should use it with honor] And nothing could have 
been further from her mind than the thought that in this act 
there was something heroic. 

Before I left the house I went for a moment to my study. 
From the window I had a free outlook on the Rhine and the 
lovely Seven Mountains. Plow often, gazing upon this charm- 
ing picture, had I dreamed of a quiet and beautiful life ! Now 
I could in the darkness distinguish only the outline of my be- 
loved hills against the horizon. Here was my room quiet as 
ever. How often had I peopled it with my imaginings! Here 
were my books and manuscripts, all testifying of hopes, plans, 
and endeavors, which now perhaps had to be left behind for- 
ever. An instinctive feeling told me that all this was now 
over. 

At the same hour Kinkel took leave of his wife and 
children, and then returned to the meeting, where he appeared 
on the platform armed with a musket. With impressive words 
he announced to his hearers what was to be done to-night and 

[173] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
what he himself was resolved to do. He urged nobody to fol- 
low him blindly. He concealed from nobody the danger of the 
enterprise. Only those who in the extreme need of the father- 
land felt it to be their duty, he summoned to march with him 
in the ranks. 

I had been instructed to see to it that the ferry across the 
Rhine should be at our disposal. It was dark when I went to 
my appointed place on the bank of the river. There I found 
a fellow-student, Ludwig Meyer, with whom I crossed the 
river in a rowboat. On the other side we met according to 
agreement a troop of companions. At once we took posses- 
sion of the ferry, the so-called flying bridge, ordered the ferry- 
man to swing it over to Bonn, and then to take it back to the 
right bank of the Rhine, loaded with a crowd of armed men. 
This was the force that was to march to Siegburg and seize 
the armory. Kinkel appeared well armed. Two of our friends 
were on horseback, the rest on foot, most of them provided 
with weapons of some kind, but not a great many with guns. 
To me was given a rifle, but without fitting ammunition. 

Our commander, Anneke, mustered the crowd and di- 
vided it into sections. One of these was put under the com- 
mand of Josef Gerhardt, who at a later period went to Amer- 
ica and did good service as colonel of a Union regiment in 
the Civil War. Anneke found that his troop did not count 
over one hundred and twenty men, and could not refrain from 
giving bitter expression to his disappointment. Many of those 
who attended the meeting during the day had in the darkness 
slunk away when the signal was given to march. Patriotic im- 
pulses that in the morning were fresh and warm had cooled 
off in the many hours that elapsed between the first resolution 
and the moment for action. 

Our column being formed in order, Anneke made a short 

[174] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
speech, in which he set forth the need of discipline and obedi- 
ence, and then the march began. About half an hour after our 
start one of our horsemen, who had remained behind, came up 
at a gallop with the report that the dragoons, then garrisoned 
in Bonn, were at our heels, to attack us. This report should 
have surprised nobody, for during the day and the evening the 
preparations for our enterprise had been carried on so openly 
that it would have been astonishing had the authorities received 
no knowledge of it, and had they not taken measures to frus- 
trate the expedition. Moreover, we had forgotten to make the 
feny behind us unserviceable. Nevertheless the announcement 
of the approach of the dragoons produced in our ranks consid- 
erable consternation. Anneke ordered our horsemen to hasten 
back and to reconnoiter as to the nearness and strength of our 
pursuers. Meanwhile our march was accelerated so that we 
might possibly reach the River Sieg and cross it before the 
arrival of the dragoons ; but in this we failed. Long before we 
approached the river, we heard not far behind us the trumpet- 
signal ordering the dragoons to trot their horses. Anneke, 
who evidently was not very confident of the ability of his men 
to face regular soldiers in a fight, halted our column and told 
us that we were evidently not in a condition to offer success- 
ful resistance to regular troops; we should therefore disperse, 
and if we wanted to make ourselves further useful to the 
cause of the fatherland, we might find our way to Elber- 
feld or to the Palatinate, where he was ready to go. This 
signal to disperse was at once obeyed. Most of the men 
scattered over the surrounding cornfields, while some of us, 
perhaps twenty, stood still by the side of the road. The dra- 
goons quietly passed us at a trot on their way to Siegburg. 
There were only some thirty of them, not enough therefore to 
overcome us or even to force their way through on the road, 

[ 175] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
if those of us who had firearms had offered an orderly 
resistance. 

When the dragoons had passed by and only a handful 
of our people had again found themselves together, a feel- 
ing of profound shame overcame us. Our enterprise had 
not only come to an unfortunate, but a ridiculous and dis- 
graceful end. Our column had taken to the fields before only a 
handful of soldiers, scarcely one-third of our number. And 
this after the big words with which many had pledged them- 
selves to the cause of German liberty and unity. I looked for 
Kinkel, but I could not find him in the darkness. At last I 
discerned Ludwig Meyer and others of my nearer friends, 
who all felt as I did, and we resolved at once to go on to see what 
might still be done. So we marched after the dragoons and 
reached the town of Siegburg shortly before daybreak. The 
democratic club, with which we had been in communication and 
the leaders of which had been expecting us during the night, 
had its headquarters in a tavern, and there we went. With 
them we discussed the question whether, in spite of the miser- 
able failure of the preceding night and the occupation of the 
armory by the dragoons, we might not after all take that build- 
ing by assault, and organize a respectable movement in aid of 
our friends in Diisseldorf and Elberfeld. The democrats of 
Siegburg could see little to encourage us. I was in a state of 
feverish excitement, and although extremely tired, could not 
sleep. In the course of the morning a considerable multitude 
got together, members of the Landwehr, and their friends 
from the vicinity. Soon we began to make speeches before 
large crowds, and the storming of the armory was repeatedly 
urged. A rumor came that during the day a fight had broken 
out between citizens and soldiers in Bonn, and I communicated 
that rumor to the assembled multitude; but further informa- 

[176] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
tion having arrived, I had to my shame to confess that the 
tale was not true. I was nervously eager to wash out the 
disgrace of the night before, and to try the utmost for our 
cause, even under the most unfavorable circumstances. But 
it was all in vain. The evening came, the crowds dispersed, 
and I had at last to make up my mind that the people we had 
before us could not be moved to do anything desperate. Meyer 
and T resolved to go where there was fighting in prospect, and 
set out for Elberfeld. We reached that town the next day. 

There we found barricades on the streets, much noise 
in the taverns, only a small number of armed men, and no dis- 
cipline nor united leadership. Evidently here was no chance 
of success. Nothing could come of this, except perhaps a 
hopeless fight or a speedy capitulation. Meyer and I resolved 
therefore to go to the Palatinate. Soon we were on board a 
steamboat running up the Rhine. I wrote home asking my 
parents to send me some necessary things to our friend Nathan 
at Sanct Goarshausen, and on the evening of the same day 
we arrived under his hospitable roof in the shadow of the 
Loreley-rock. 

There I had my first quiet hours after the terrible excite- 
ment of the last four days. When I awoke from profound 
sleep all that had happened appeared to me like a dismal 
dream, and then again as a clear, more dismal reality. The 
thought struck me for the first time that now, although safe 
enough for the time being in Nathan's house, I was a fugitive, 
running away from the authorities; it was certain that they 
would not permit an attempt upon one of their armories to 
pass unpunished. This was a singularly uncomfortable feel- 
ing; but a much more hideous thought followed — that I could 
not be proud of the act to which I owed my outlawry, although 
its purpose had been patriotic. The outcome had been miser- 

[177] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
able enough to make impossible my return to my friends, until 
the shame of it had been wiped out. But my profoundest grief 
was not with regard to myself. It was the knowledge that all 
the insurrectionary attempts in Prussia had failed, and that 
the Prussian government had its hands entirely free to turn 
against the insurgents in Baden and the Palatinate. I tried 
indeed to lift myself up to the belief that so great, so just, so 
sacred a cause as that of German unity and free government 
could not possibly fail, and that undoubtedly I would still have 
some opportunity to contribute to its victory, be it ever so 
little. I have never forgotten the hours which I spent with 
Meyer and Wessel, one of our friends of the Franconia, who, 
while not comj^romised politically, had followed us from 
friendship, walking up and down discussing these matters 
under the Loreley-rock, that most dreamy nook of the Rhine 
valley. My friend Meyer looked at the situation in a some- 
what soberer spirit than I could command. After mature con- 
sideration, in which probably the thought of his family played 
an important part, he concluded to return to Bonn and to 
take the chances of a trial for his participation in the Siegburg 
affair. I did not try to urge my view of the case upon my 
dear, brave comrade, and thus we had to part. 

The leave-taking from Meyer and Wessel was very hard 
to me. When I pressed their hands for the last time, I felt as 
if I had not only to say good-by to them, but also again to 
my parents and sisters, to my home, to all my dear friends, to 
my whole past. And now farewell to the beautiful student 
life and its precious friendships, its ideal endeavors and 
hopes, its glorious youthful dreams! 

The years of apprenticeship were over, the years of wan- 
dering began. My friends journeyed down the Rhine to Bonn 
and I alone up the Rhine to Mainz. 

[178] 



CHAPTER VII 

IN Mainz I learned from a member of the democratic club 
that Kinkel had already passed through on his way to the 
Palatinate. Mr. Zitz, one of the democratic leaders of Mainz, 
who had organized a corps of volunteers in the neighborhood, 
and was to be found at the little city of Kircheimbolander, 
would probably be able to tell me more. I therefore set out 
on foot to that place, carrying my baggage in a knapsack on 
my back. I found Mr. Zitz, a tall, stately man, surrounded 
by his apparently well-armed and disciplined free corps. (Mr. 
Zitz, a few years later, was well known in New York as a 
member of the law firm of Zitz & Kapp.) The camp looked 
orderly and well-managed. The artillery consisted of three or 
four little cannon, such as were commonly used to make a noise 
at popular frolics. Mr. Zitz told me that Kinkel had gone to 
Kaiserslautern, the revolutionary capital of the Palatinate, to 
offer his services to the provisional government. I marched 
on, and found Kinkel and Anneke both in the best of humor. 
They welcomed me heartily, quartered me in a tavern, and 
told me that soon they might give me something to do. 

The next morning I rose bright and early. With especial 
curiosity I observed how people under a revolutionary condi- 
tion look. I found that the guests in the tavern breakfasted 
as calmly as ever. I was told that the son of mine host would 
celebrate his wedding in a few days, and that great prepara- 
tions were going on for the festivity. There was, indeed, a 
good deal of bustle on the streets — here persons who seemed 
to be following their daily vocation in the accustomed way; 

[179] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
there troops of young men in their ordinary dress with muskets 
on their shoulders, who evidently belonged to the ' Volks- 
W ehr " — volunteer guard — in process of formation; between 
them, soldiers in the Bavarian uniform who had passed over 
to the people; and even policemen, in their official uniform 
with swords at their sides, and engaged in their regular 
functions as guardians of safety and order. At this I was 
not a little surprised, but I learned that these policemen had 
taken the oath of allegiance to the national constitution, that 
they served the provisional government, and were generally 
very good fellows. On the whole I found that although the 
leaders of the revolutionary movement had their busy hours 
of care and trouble, the population was in a condition of merry 
contentment, enjoying the charm of the moment without 
bothering much with thoughts of what the coming day would 
bring. There was a sort of general Sunday afternoon atmos- 
phere, a real picnic humor — very amiable, but not at all cor- 
responding with the conception which I had formed of the 
seriousness of a revolutionary situation. I soon learned to 
understand that this good humor sprung from the generally 
sunny disposition of the people of the Palatinate. 

The Bavarian Palatinate is a country richly blessed by 
nature; the beauty of the landscape and the wealth of its re- 
sources are well apt to nourish in its inhabitants a natural 
disposition to enjoy life merrily. The Pfaelzers had been 
known from immemorial times for their light-heartedness. 
They were an intelligent and excitable folk, good-natured 
and enthusiastic, self-confident, and perhaps also a little given 
to contentiousness. There were very few poor among them, 
at that time at least, except in one small district. It was, there- 
fore, by no means want or distress that made the Pfaelzers 
discontented and revolutionary. The Vienna Congress, after 

[ 180 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
the Napoleonic wars, had assigned the Palatinate to the king 
of Bavaria, but as that province was not contiguous to the 
rest of the kingdom, it had not the feeling of really belong- 
ing to it. A Bavarian patriotism would never grow in the 
Palatinate. When the Bavarian government sent ' Old- 
Bavarian " officers into the Palatinate to help govern its 
people, the attitude toward one another became still more 
unfriendly, as the hungry " Old-Bavarians," it was said, were 
sent to the rich Palatinate to grow fat. Their relations were 
much like those that existed between the Prussian province 
on the Rhine and old Prussia. The Pfaelzers were there- 
fore in almost constant opposition to Old-Bavaria, and this 
opposition would have been sufficient to drive them into the 
ranks of the liberals had not liberal ways of thinking and 
feeling been natural to this vivacious and enlightened popula- 
tion. That this liberalism bore a decided German-national 
character was a matter of course. In fact, one of the most 
famous national demonstrations at the beginning of the 
thirties, the celebrated " Hambacher Fest," had taken place in 
the Palatinate, and among the leaders of the national move- 
ment there were always Pfaelzers in the foremost ranks. 

When the king of Bavaria refused to recognize the na- 
tional constitution made by the Frankfurt Parliament, the 
general indignation in the Palatinate broke out in furious 
flame. It was a natural sentiment with the Pfaelzers that if 
the king of Bavaria would not be German, the Palatinate 
must cease to be Bavarian. On the 2d of May an immense 
mass-meeting was held at Kaiserslautern in which all the 
liberal clubs of the Palatinate were represented. This meet- 
ing elected a committee for the " defense of the country, 
which, according to the resolutions adopted, was to take the 
government of the province into its hands and to organize an 

[ 181 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
armed force. This action accorded with the universal will of 
the population of the Palatinate, with the exception, perhaps, 
of a very few civil and military officers. 

The terrible confusion which the refusal of the king of 
Prussia to accept the imperial crown under the national con- 
stitution had brought upon all Germany came now to light 
in an almost grotesque manner. As already mentioned, the 
national parliament had, on the 4th of May, summoned " the 
governments, the legislative bodies, the communes of the 
several German states, the whole German people, to see to it 
that the constitution of the German Empire be generally rec- 
ognized and practically introduced." Inasmuch as the king 
of Bavaria would not recognize the national constitution, the 
Pfaelzers felt themselves justified in rising against the 
Bavarian government, for they only obeyed the national par- 
liament, which they regarded as the highest national authority 
in Germany. The " Committee for the Defense of the Coun- 
try," therefore, quite logically applied to the national parlia- 
ment through their representatives in that body, and to the 
national central power, for recognition, protection, and sup- 
port. The national central power, at the head of which stood 
the Austrian Archduke Johann, thereupon sent an imperial 
commissioner, Dr. Eisenstuck, to the Palatinate with the in- 
struction " to take in the name of the imperial power all meas- 
ures necessary for the restoration of the laws in that country," 
and especially to see to it that some of the resolutions adopted 
by the " Committee for the Defense of the Country " be re- 
scinded. The imperial commissioner, after due investigation, 
declared those resolutions to be invalid, but he recognized the 
' Committee for the Defense of the Country " and for the 
execution of the national constitution as fully competent to 
organize an armed power and to swear in the members thereof 

[ 182 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
to obey the national constitution, and in case of necessity to 
defend that constitution by independent action against all 
attacks by force. With this, of course, Archduke Johann, who 
had sent him, was not pleased. 

That prince had originally become distasteful to the Aus- 
trian court by marrying a young woman who did not belong 
to the nobility, and by uttering now and then a liberal senti- 
ment. This had put him in the odor of liberalism with the 
great public, and to this circumstance he owed his election to 
the office of regent of the empire in 1848. It was not unnat- 
ural at all that this election created in him the desire to obtain 
for himself the imperial crown. When the king of Prussia 
was elected emperor the archduke was greatly disappointed, 
and he showed his displeasure at once by offering to the na- 
tional parliament his resignation as regent of the empire. He 
permitted himself, however, to be pursuaded to withdraw that 
resignation for the time being, and he did this all the more 
willingly as he received from the Austrian court the sugges- 
tion that he should not abandon so important an office while 
it existed, because through it he might do very important 
service to the dynastic interest of Austria. That dynastic in- 
terest of Austria was, at the time, to prevent by every means 
the elevation of the king of Prussia to the dignity of German 
emperor; and also not to permit any constitution of the Ger- 
man empire which did not comprise the whole of Austria, 
including its Hungarian and Slavic populations, and in which 
Austria did not occupy the leading place. The national con- 
stitution, which was actually adopted by the Frankfurt parlia-. 
ment, making Prussia the leading power, was therefore to the 
Austrian court an abomination. The liberalism of the Arch- 
duke Johann may originally have been ever so genuine — cer- 
tain it is that he had the monarchical interest in general, and the 

[183] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
Austrian interest in particular, more at heart than the national 
constitution and German unity. 

Now the following situation of things presented itself; 
the German national parliament had created an executive au- 
thority in the form of the " Provisional Central Power," with 
the Archduke Johann as regent, in order to enforce respect to 
its orders and its laws. The most important of the utterances 
of its will consisted in the national constitution and the elec- 
tion of the king of Prussia as German emperor. The king 
of Prussia, that is, the emperor-elect, refusing to recognize the 
national constitution as rightfully existing, and declined to 
accept his election. The national parliament thereupon sum- 
moned not only all German governments, but also all legisla- 
tive bodies and the communes of the German states, etc., in 
fact, the whole people, to enforce the national constitution. 
The people of the Palatinate did exactly what the national 
parliament had ordered the German people to do. The 
Pfaelzers had risen for the national constitution, against 
the king of Bavaria, who refused to recognize that constitu- 
tion. The imperial commissioner, sent by the regent of the 
empire into the Palatinate, found himself obliged, by the logic 
of circumstances as well as by his loyalty to the national par- 
liament, to confirm the " Committee for the Defense of the 
Country " in the Palatinate, and to recognize it as lawfully 
empowered to resist all forcible attacks upon the national 
constitution. And what then did the imperial regent who had 
been appointed for the purpose of enforcing the will of the 
national parliament, and especially to secure the recognition 
and introduction of the national constitution, do? He recalled 
the imperial commissioner at once, and then went to work to 
suppress by force of arms the popular movement which had 
been set on foot in compliance with the summons of the na- 

[ 184 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
tional parliament for the defense and introduction of the 
national constitution. And for this act of suppression mainly 
Prussian troops were selected — troops of the same king who 
in March, 1848, had solemnly promised to put himself at the 
head of the national movement and to merge Prussia in Ger- 
many; who then had been elected German emperor; and who 
now was to strike down those who insisted that he should be- 
come German emperor. 

It has been said in defense of this monstrous proceeding 
that the popular uprising for the national constitution in the 
Palatinate and in Baden was mixed up with strong repub- 
lican tendencies; that is, with the desire to subvert the existing 
political order of things. This is true to a certain extent, but A 
it is also true that if the German princes had loyally done that 
which in March, 1848, they had given the German people the 
fullest right to expect that they would do, and if the king 
of Prussia and his brother-kings had accepted the national 
constitution, they would have neutralized, disintegrated, and 
rendered powerless all republican movements in Germany. 
The German people at large would have been satisfied. They 
would undoubtedly have consented even to some changes in 
the monarchical sense in the national constitution. And it is 
no less true that the manner in which the kings, after so many 
beautiful promises and pledges, sought to disappoint the hopes 
of the German people for national unity, was only too certain 
to destroy all faith in their national sentiment, and to create 
the opinion that only by means of republicanism a united Ger- ' 
man nation could be formed. The attitude of the king of 
Prussia, as well as the kings of Bavaria, Hanover, and Sax- 
ony, placed before the German people the clear alternative 
either to abandon, at least for the time being, all endeavors 
for German unity and political freedom, or to strive for the 

[185] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
realization of these objects by means which are termed by 
governments revolutionary. The pitiable history of Germany 
during the next ten years has strikingly demonstrated that 
those who looked at the situation in the year 1849 in the light 
of this alternative were entirely right. 

Let us now return to the Palatinate and the recall of 
the imperial commissioner. At first attempts were made to 
check the revolutionary movement in the Palatinate with small 
bodies of troops; but this failed, and as also in the meanwhile 
by the uprising of the people and the defection of the army 
in Baden the situation of things had become much more seri- 
ous, the Prussian government began to mobilize some army 
corps and to prepare for a regular campaign. It was these 
preparations which had caused the various revolts in the Prus- 
sian provinces on the Rhine and in Westphalia. The Palati- 
nate was now, for a little while, left to itself, and the good-na- 
tured and sanguine people saw in this temporary quiet a sign 
that the king of Prussia and his royal associates after all 
disliked openly to proceed against them with arms in their 
hands, because other populations in Germany might be as 
enthusiastic for the cause of German unity and liberty as the 
people in the Palatinate and Baden. They preferred to believe 
that the uprising would end as merrily as it had begun ; and this 
explains the fact that the popular light-heartedness in the 
midst of revolutionary events, which I have designated as a 
picnic humor, lasted a considerable time. The cooler heads 
indeed did not indulge in such delusions; they foresaw that 
this would be a decisive struggle against an anti-national and 
anti-liberal reaction, in which the princes and court parties 
would put into the field their large and well organized power, 
if necessary even to the last reserves, and that against this 
power the resources of the Palatinate and of Baden looked 

[186] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
pitiably inadequate. In the Palatinate a small number of 
Bavarian soldiers had come out for the popular cause — that 
is to say, they had left their colors and taken the oath of 
allegiance to the national constitution and to the provisional 
government. Aside from these regular soldiers, the provisional 
government had at its disposition the civic guard of some of 
the cities, which, however, could be used only for local service, 
and were indifferently armed. Then they had the little corps 
under Zitz — some six or seven hundred men — and a small 
corps under Blenker, and finally the military bodies which 
were still to be organized on a large scale, but which so far 
were insignificant as a fighting force. It would probably not 
have been difficult to raise in the Palatinate an army corps of 
twenty to twenty-five thousand men had the provisional gov- 
ernment had firearms at its disposal. Multitudes of volunteers 
offered themselves, but as no guns could be put into their 
hands and they could only be armed with spears, many of them 
went home again. An attempt to import muskets from 
Belgium failed, because they were intercepted by Prussian 
customs officers on their way through Prussian territory. An 
expedition led by Blenker to surprise the fortress of Landau, 
situated in the Palatinate, which contained considerable stores 
of arms and military equipments, also failed. Thus the want 
of arms remained one of the most pressing cares. 

The provisional government consisted of highly honor- 
able, well-meaning, and brave men, who should not be blamed 
for not having mastered a situation which would have tested 
the resources of a great organizing genius. Nor did they suc- 
ceed in finding military men equal to the gigantic task. The 
chief command of such military organization as they had they 
gave first to a former leader of the civic guard in Vienna, 
Fenner von Fenneberg, a man who had developed into a pro- 

[187] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
fessional revolutionist, and who spent his time mainly in blam- 
ing others for not doing what had to be done. He was soon 
obliged to give up his post, and the command then passed tem- 
porarily into the hands of a military commission composed 
of former Prussian officers, Techow, Beust, Schimmelpfen- 
ning, and Anneke. These were well-trained men, but better 
fitted to take command of bodies of troops already or- 
ganized and equipped than to create an army in a country 
the population of which was little accustomed to discipline 
and ready obedience, and to whom Prussian officers with their 
systematic ways and abrupt methods were not very sympa- 
thetic. Still this commission accomplished all that could have 
been expected of it. Meanwhile the provisional government 
had engaged for a considerable sum of money the services of 
an old Polish general by the name of Sznayde, of whom it 
was rumored that he was really not a Pole, but a German by 
the name of Schneider. Men who had served as officers in the 
great Polish revolutionary wars appeared at that time with 
a sort of a halo of revolutionary heroism around their heads. 
The popular legend attributed to them not only extraordinary 
bravery, but also all possible military talent, and exceptional 
familiarity with the secrets of the military art. It was as if 
at the rallying places of the Polish refugees, especially in Paris 
and Switzerland, a stock of generals w r as kept in store, to be 
occasionally disposed of for revolutionary enterprises in any 
part of the world. Among these Polish officers there were 
undoubtedly men of very respectable ability, such as Dembin- 
sky, Bern, Mieroslowski, and others; but also much worthless 
and time-worn material. How the provisional government of 
the Palatinate hit upon General Sznayde I do not know. It 
was said that in the Polish-Russian war of 1830-1831 he had 
been a very brave cavalry officer, but in the year 1849 it would 

[188] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
have been difficult to find a general less fit for the command 
of the volunteer bodies in the Palatinate. He was a very fat 
and ponderous old gentleman who looked as if he preferred to 
wield fork and knife rather than the sword, and to whom a 
good night's rest would be much more welcome than the tumult 
of battle. Neither could he say the little he had to say in in- 
telligible German. His performance as an organizer of the 
popular army consisted mainly in hindering the military com- 
mission that was to aid him. The consequence was that while 
the provisional government issued an abundance of appeals 
and orders, most of them remained unobserved. After a 
labor of six weeks the Palatinate had not more than seven 
to eight thousand men, most of whom were very badly armed, 
and all of whom were indifferently disciplined. 

In the neighboring grand duchy of Baden things looked 
much more favorable; the whole infantry and artillery,' as 
well as the largest part of the cavalry of the state, had come 
over to the popular side and presented a well-equipped army 
corps of about fifteen thousand men. Moreover, the fortress 
of Rastatt had fallen into the hands of the insurrectionists, 
with all its stores of arms, ammunition and equipments. 
Newly formed organizations could therefore much more easily 
be provided with all the necessaries, and thus an army of some 
forty or fifty thousand men might have been organized 
in a comparatively short time. To be sure, the officers 
had mostly remained true to the grand duke, and thus sepa- 
rated themselves from their commands, but their places had 
been filled with promoted corporals and sergeants, and among 
these were able men in sufficient numbers to maintain among 
the troops tolerable discipline. Thus the revolution appeared 
in Baden in more or less stately armament. 

But the political leaders in the Palatinate and Baden 

[ 189 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
ought to have recognized from the start that the utmost ex- 
ertion of their strength could not possibly be sufficient to re- 
sist the united power of the German princes, or even that of 
Prussia alone. There was no hope of success unless the popular 
uprising spread beyond its present boundaries into the rest of 
Germany. To this end all the available forces that could be 
mustered should without delay have been thrown across the 
frontiers in order to draw into the revolutionary movement the 
population of the neighboring states; in the first place those 
of Wurtemberg and Hessen. A young officer of Baden, 
Franz Sigel, who had been promoted to major by the provi- 
sional government, recognized this clearly enough, and he 
counseled an advance into Wurtemberg. The provisional 
government permitted him to lead an expedition into the grand 
duchy of Hessen with a small force, but after an unfortu- 
nate engagement he was ordered back. The provisional gov- 
ernments of Baden and of the Palatinate could not screw up 
their courage to an offensive venture across their boundaries; 
they did not see that their defeat was inevitable if they waited 
in a defensive attitude for the attacks of the hostile forces. 
They continued to cling to the desperate hope that the Prus- 
sian government after all at the last moment would rpcoil 
from an active assault upon the defenders of the national con- 
stitution; or, if not, that the Prussian " Landwehr ' would 
refuse to fight against their brothers who had risen for a com- 
mon cause. Whatever the Landwehr might have done if the 
revolutionary army, with bold resolution and victorious cour- 
age, had come to meet them on their own ground, and had so 
appealed to their sympathies, it could hardly be expected of 
them that they would sacrifice themselves for a cause which was 
only timidly defended by its champions. But however clear this 
should have been at the time to the leaders in Baden and the 

[190] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
Palatinate, the provisional governments insisted upon remain- 
ing within the boundaries of their own little countries and 
thus to await the attack. 

On the day after my arrival in Kaiserslautern I would 
have enlisted as a private soldier in one of the volunteer bat- 
talions then being organized, had not Anneke not advised me 
not to be in too much of a hurry, but to permit him to find a fit 
position for me. He had been made chief of artillery in the 
Palatinate, and said he could employ me on his staff. Two 
days afterwards he brought me an appointment as lieutenant, 
signed by the provisional government, and made me his aide- 
de-camp. Kinkel found employment as one of the secretaries 
of the provisional government. The artillery of the Palat- 
inate consisted, at that time, of only the four little guns of 
the corps commanded by Zitz, of half a dozen small cannon, 
of which it was said they might be of much use in mountain 
warfare, and of a battery of six pounders obtained from the 
provisional government of Baden. The field of activity of 
the artillery chief and of his staff was therefore a limited one ; 
and I was not displeased when I was told that until the be- 
ginning of active hostilities I might also be emploj^ed in 
political affairs. 

I was now and then sent to popular meetings which were 
held to warm the patriotic zeal of the masses; and once I 
received an order to effect the arrest of a priest who used 
his influence in his parish — a large village of about three 
thousand inhabitants — to keep the young men from enlisting 
in the military organizations then forming. This was regarded 
as a sort of high treason against the new order of things; 
and the priest being looked upon as a desperate person who 
might possibly offer resistance, a little body of fifty men was 
to accompany me in order to aid me in the execution of my 

[191] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
orders. This armed force did, indeed, not look very formid- 
able; the lieutenant who commanded it was in civilian dress, 
except that he wore a plume on his hat and a tri-colored sash, 
and a sword. Among the men there was only one military 
uniform, that of a member of the national guard of Strasburg, 
whence he had come to enjoy with us the revolutionary frolic 
in the Palatinate. The rest of the men were in their daily 
garb. There were only about a dozen muskets among them, 
mostly with old flint locks. The rest of the armament con- 
sisted of spears and scythes fastened straight on poles. As 
a commissioner of the provisional government, I was dis- 
tinguished by a tri-colored sash and a sword; I also carried 
a pistol in my belt, but without cartridges. Thus equipped 
we marched across the country to the village in which the 
treasonable priest carried on his mischievous activity. Within 
sight of the village we halted, and there being nobody among 
my men who was acquainted with the whereabouts, I sent 
three of them, without arms, ahead to reconnoiter the location 
of the parsonage. Two of them should remain there after 
having discovered it, and the third was to return to serve the 
expedition as a guide. 

When I marched into the village at the head of my arma- 
ment I found the streets a picture of profound peace. It was 
a beautiful summer afternoon; the male inhabitants, agri- 
culturists, were working in the fields; only a few old people 
and little children were to be seen at the doors of the houses 
or at the windows, looking at the strange procession with 
stolid astonishment. I must confess that I appeared to myself 
for the moment somewhat comical, but my official duty left me 
no choice. The parsonage was promptly surrounded by part 
of my force, so that my culprit should not slip away 
through a back door; the main body was drawn up in 

[192] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
front of the house on the street. I knocked at the door 
and found myself soon in a plain but very comfortably 
furnished room with the priest before me. He was a young 
man, perhaps thirty-five years old; a robust figure and a 
well-formed head, with lively penetrating eyes. I tried to as- 
sume a severe martial attitude, and acquainted him at once, 
in short words, with my charge, put my hand upon his shoulder, 
as was customary in making an arrest, and called him my 
prisoner. To my astonishment he broke out in a merry laugh, 
which seemed quite genuine. 

"You want to arrest me," he exclaimed; "that is nice. 
You are evidently a university student. I have been the same, 
and understand this sort of thing; the whole story is only a 
joke. Drink a bottle of wine with me." Thereupon he opened 
the door of the room and called to a servant to bring- wine. 

I did not like to be at once discovered as a university stu- 
dent, and resented that my mien of official authority should 
not impress him. So I said in as severe a tone as possible, 
' Reverend sir, this is not a joke. You have hindered in vour 
parish the organization of the army; such treasonable conduct 
cannot be permitted by the provisional government. In the 
name of that provisional government I have arrested you. You 
must follow me; do not hesitate to obey. Your house is sur- 
rounded by soldiers; do not oblige me to use force! " 

' Force! We will see about that! " he exclaimed, and in 
his eyes there gleamed something like anger and defiance, but 
he controlled himself, and continued in a serious but quiet 
tone: " There cannot be so much hurry about this that you 
may not listen to a word from me. Here is the girl with the 
wine, and if I must follow you, permit me at least to drink a 
glass with you, to your health. It is true I have warned my 
poor peasant boys not to enter the army and to expose them- 

[193] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
selves to be shot for nothing. You yourself do not think that 
this insane revolt can succeed; in a few days the Prussians will 
chase your provisional government across the Rhine. Where- 
fore then this nonsense which may cost many people their 
lives?" With this he pulled the cork out of the bottle and 
filled two glasses. I had no time to consider whether, thirsty 
as I was, I should drink with my prisoner, when I heard the 
bell on the church steeple near by give a violent signal of 
alarm. This could be nothing else than a tocsin; it seemed 
that the peasants had somehow or other been informed of the 
danger threatening their priest, and as if this church bell 
summoned them to his protection. The priest seemed to under- 
stand the situation clearly ; a sly smile flew across his face. 
" How many men have you outside? " he asked. 
" Enough," I answered. 

I opened the window and saw crowds of peasants hurry- 
ing on from all sides with flails and pitch- forks and bludgeons. 
My men were still standing in line on the street; some of them 
seemed to look around with anxiety at the villagers rushing 
upon the scene. I ordered the lieutenant to post my men with 
X their backs against the house and to let nobody in; in case of 
an attack he should defend the door to the utmost of his ability. 
I directed him to give the same orders to the men who watched 
the back door of the parsonage. The multitudes in front of 
the house grew larger and larger. Threatening exclamations 
were heard; evidently the situation was becoming complicated. 
Whether the handful of my volunteers could resist that big 
crowd of fanatic peasants appeared very questionable. 

The priest still smiled. ' My parishioners will defend me 
with their lives. It looks to me as if your armed force were in 
their power." 

Then a happy thought shot across my mind. 

[194] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 

" In any case, you, Herr Pastor, are in my power," I an- 
swered, drawing my pistol from my belt and cocking it. The 
priest would have continued to smile if he had known that the 
pistol was not loaded. He evidently thought it was a danger- 
ous weapon, and his smile disappeared suddenly. 

" What do you want? " he asked. 

" I want you," I said with a show of coolness which, 
however, I did not really feel ; " I want you to step at once to 
this window and to admonish your peasants to return to their 
homes without delay. You will add that you have affairs 
with the provisional government in the interest of your parish- 
ioners; that you will go to the city in the company of your 
friend here — that means me — to transact that business, and that 
these armed volunteers have come to protect you on the way 
against all danger and annoyance. While you make this speech 
to your peasants I stand with this pistol behind you. Do your 
business well, my friend; the provisional government will re- 
member it." The priest looked at me for a moment with an 
expression of surprise, and smiled again, but it was an em- 
barrassed smile; the pistol in my hand evidently did not please 
him. Then he rose, stepped to the window and was received 
by the peasants with loud exclamations. He commanded 
silence, and said exactly what I had prescribed to him. He did 
his business finely. The peasants obeyed without hesitation, 
and quiet reigned again in the streets. The priest and I then 
emptied our bottle of wine with all comfort. At dusk we left 
the house by the back door and wandered together toward the 
cjfTy like two old friends in merry conversation, my armed 
escort a hundred paces behind us. On the way I toyed with 
my pistol, throwing it into the air and catching it again with 
my hand. 

" Take care," said the priest, " the pistol might go off." 

[195] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
"Impossible, Herr Pastor," I answered; "it is not 

loaded." 

" What! " he exclaimed, " not loaded? " 

We looked at one another and broke out into loud 
laughter. 

I reported to the provisional government how the priest 
had helped me and my people out of a very precarious situa- 
tion, and he was very kindly treated and allowed to return 
home forthwith. The provisional government had indeed 
much more important things to think of. 

The attack which the merry Pfaelzers — at least many of 
them — had so long deemed improbable now really came. On 
the 12th of June a body of Prussian troops crossed the fron- 
tier. If the curses which those otherwise so good-natured people 
hurled against those Prussians had all been cannon balls, the 
Prussian troops could hardly have stood up against them; but 
the real fighting force at the disposal of the provisional gov- 
ernment was so insignificant and so ill-equipped and undis- 
ciplined that an effective defense of the country was not 
possible. It was therefore necessary to avoid an encounter 
with the Prussians, and so it happened that the first military 
operation in which I participated consisted in a retreat. A 
few days before this my chief, Lieutenant Colonel Anneke, 
had instructed me to be ready to march at any moment, which 
I did not find difficult, because my baggage was extremely 
scant. I was given a horse, a fine bay, and as I had never 
learned to ride, my commander sent me to a riding school, 
where the master ordered me to mount the animal, explaining 
to me in a few words what I was to do with my legs and my 
hands to guide my mount; whereupon he struck him with 
a smart cut of his whip, and I had to keep my seat as well as 
I could on my prancing steed. After this had gone on for an 

[196] 




CARL SCHURZ AS A STUDENT 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
hour or so the master dismissed me, saying: " The next lesson 
you will get on the march." He was right; the constant exer- 
cise in active service gave me a pretty firm seat. 

The sudden necessity of retreating considerably in- 
creased the general confusion. There was no end of or- 
ders and revocations of orders until we finally got started. 
I think it was in the night from the 13th to the 14th of 
June. With our artillery we had, indeed, no great diffi- 
culty, inasmuch as it consisted of very few pieces. At two 
o'clock in the night we mounted our horses and were off. A 
night march is almost always a miserable affair, especially 
a night march in retreat. Yet I must confess that the dull 
rumble of the wheels on the road, the rustle of the march- 
ing columns, the low snorting of the horses, and the rattling 
of the sabers and scabbards in the darkness, affected me as 
something especially romantic. In the appreciation of this I 
found sympathetic response with the wife of my chief, Ma- 
thilda Franciska Anneke, a young woman of noble charac- 
ter, beauty, vivacity, and fiery patriotism, who accompanied 
her husband on this march. I remember well our common 
pleasure, when in that night we passed by a tavern on the road- 
side, where some of the men, bearded fellows with black hats 
covered with plumes, and fantastically ornamented blouses, 
their rifles hung over their shoulders, in the feeble flicker of a 
lamp crowded around the woman of the hostelry, who poured 
wine for them. The picture might have been a scene of Schil- 
ler's k Robbers." The majority of our men not being uni- 
formed, every soldier dressed more or less according to his 
fancy, and this gave tempting scope to individual taste. Many 
of the men evidently endeavored to look very wild and terrible, 
which they would have done had their faces not been so strik- 
ingly good-natured. 

[197] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
About sunrise after this first night's march we found 
ourselves in a deep gorge between precipitous ledges, near a 
place called Frankenstein, where we took a defensive posi- 
tion across the road to Neustadt. A cold morning brings, under 
such circumstances, a feeling of truly unromantic sober-mind- 
edness with it, and I then learned that a hot cup of coffee, ever 
so thin, and a piece of dry bread, belong to the great benefac- 
tions of life. The Prussians, however, did not press us, and 
we remained undisturbed in our bivouac near Frankenstein 
during the entire day. On the 15th and 16th of June the 
troops of the Palatinate were drawn together near Neustadt- 
an-der-Hardt. 

In this rich country the population of the villages mani- 
fested their friendly sentiments toward us by putting large 
pails filled with wine in the doors of their houses, so 
that the passing troops might refresh themselves. There I 
saw for the first time the leader of a considerable corps, 
Colonel Blenker, who twelve years later, during the Civil 
War in the United States, attracted much attention as a bri- 
gade commander. He was an excellent horseman, and as he ap- 
peared splendidly accoutered at the head of his staff, he pre- 
sented a stately and imposing figure. The spectacle of several 
well-armed battalions revived, to some extent, the courage of 
our troops, which had been somewhat dampened by the retreat, 
and here and there arose the cry that now the confounded 
Prussians might come on; but the retreat was continued and 
the Palatinate abandoned without the striking of a blow. 
About the 19th of June, 1849, some seven or eight thousand 
strong, we crossed the Rhine into Baden territory and marched 
toward Karlsruhe, the capital of the grand duchy. 

Our entry into that neat little city created among the in- 
habitants a sensation which was by no means flattering to the 

[198] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
troops of the Palatinate. The Karlsruhe burghers, who had 
been accustomed to the trim appearance of the grand duke's 
soldiers, did not seem to relish the picturesque and romantic 
appearance of our Palatinate fighters for liberty, but were 
rather inclined to close their doors and shutters as though 
feeling the necessity of protecting themselves against the 
inroad of a band of robbers. At any rate, the faces of 
many of the people who stood on the streets watching our 
entering columns bore the unmistakable expression of anx- 
ious expectancy. We consoled ourselves with the thought, 
and gave that thought very vigorous utterance, that the 
population of this little capital consisted mainly of cour- 
tiers, high and low, and of government officials, and that at 
the bottom of their hearts they hated the revolution and wished 
the grand duke to return, although many of them had, since 
his flight, talked like republicans. The wish of the people of 
Karlsruhe to get rid of their neighbors from the Palatinate, 
was so great that our troops were not even given sufficient op- 
portunity to prove to those timid souls what honest and peace- 
loving beings were concealed under those wild beards, those red 
plumes, and those belts stocked full of daggers and dirks. On 
the same day a camp was assigned to us outside of the city, 
and on the 20th of June we marched northward to the aid of 
the revolutionary army of Baden, which in the meantime had 
got into a critical situation. 

The army of Baden had defended the northern frontier 
of the grand duchy against General Peuker, commander of a 
corps formed of regular Wiirtemberg and Hessen troops. Just 
at the time when the hostilities broke out, the Badish army 
also received its Pole, General Mieroslawski, as commander- 
in-chief. He was still a young man, and had shown much ability 
as well as bravery in the last Polish uprising, but he possessed 

[199] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
no knowledge of local conditions, and was ignorant of the 
German language. However, he was vastly preferable to old 
Sznayde. On the 20th of June the Prussian corps passed the 
Rhine from the Palatinate near Philipsburg, and so got into 
the rear of the Badish army. With a rapid movement Miero- 
slawski turned against these Prussians, checked them by a bold 
attack near Waghaeusel, and then executed a clever flank 
march by which he passed between the Prussian troops and 
those of General Peuker, and opened communication with the 
corps of the Palatinate and the reserves which approached from 
the south of Baden. The engagement at Waghaeusel was by 
no means discreditable to the Badish troops. We could hear 
the roar of the guns as we marched northward by way of 
Bruchsal, and soon rumors began to circulate among us of a 
great victory won by our people over the Prussians. But then 
later news came that Mieroslawski was retreating along the 
Wurtemberg frontier and that we had to cover his flank. 
This did not much disturb our belief that the battle of 
Waghaeusel had really been a victory, the fruits of which, 
however, as was said, were lost through the treachery of the 
colonel of the dragoons, who was ordered to pursue the beaten 
enemy. On the 23d of June we advanced to Ubstadt and 
there we received the report that the next morning we would 
have to meet the Prussian vanguard. The orders which I re- 
ceived from my chief kept me busy on horseback until night, 
and it was late when I reached my quarters in the tavern at 
Ubstadt. My chief had already gone to rest. Upon all sides I 
heard the snoring of sleepers. Only the daughter of our host, 
a buxom young maiden of resolute expression of face, seemed 
to be at work. I asked her for a bed and something to eat, and 
both requests were granted by her with a robust outbreak of 
her feelings against the " accursed Prussians," who had nothing 

[ 200 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
to do in the Badish land, and whom we should send home on the 
morrow with a sound thrashing. Now I expected within 
myself the solemn " emotions on the eve of hattle " of which 
here and there I had read. But no emotions came ; I fell asleep 
as soon as I had stretched myself out. 

Neither did those emotions come the next morning, " on 
the morning of the battle." It almost appeared to me as if 
overmuch had been imagined about such emotions. In later 
life I have gathered the experience that indeed they will 
occur, but only on exceptional occasions. Ordinarily the 
thoughts of the soldier on the morning before the battle turn 
to things of a very practical nature, among which breakfast 
occupies an important place. So it happened to me on that 
morning at Ubstadt. At an early hour we were in the saddle, 
and soon we saw at a little distance in our front some cavalry- 
men who approached at a moderate pace. This signified that 
the Prussians had deployed one or more squadrons of uhlans as 
skirmishers who would be followed by infantry and artillery 
to make an attack. The uhlans disappeared after having fired 
a few shots from their carbines, and then began a lively rattle 
of infantry fire. Soon cannon were posted on both sides and 
the balls flew to and fro with their peculiar rushing sound, 
without, however, doing much damage. At first my attention 
was occupied entirely by orders which I had to transmit or 
to execute, but after our artillery had been placed, and 
we sat quietly on our horses in the immediate neighbor- 
hood of the battery, I had leisure to become conscious 
of my thoughts and feelings. Then I experienced another 
disappointment. For the first time I was ' under fire." I 
cannot say that I was entirely calm; my nerves were in an 
unaccustomed stir: but that stir was not fear, nor was it the 
heroic joy of battle, of which I had read so much, for I was 

[201 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
obliged to stand still. As the Prussian guns directed their fire 
upon our artillery position, their balls flew one after another 
immediately over our heads. At first I felt a strong inclination 
when I heard the noise right above me, to duck; but it occurred 
to me that this was unbecoming an officer, and then I remained 
straight upright in my saddle. I also forced myself not to 
quiver when a musket bullet whizzed close by my ear. The 
wounded men who were carried past excited my warm sym- 
pathy; but the thought that the same might happen to me the 
next moment did not occur to me at all. When my chief 
afterwards sent me again with orders hither and thither, all 
the reflections ceased and I thought of nothing but the things 
I had to do, and of the course of the action as I could observe 
it. In short, I felt little or nothing of those stormy, irrepres- 
sible agitations which I had imagined to be inseparable from a 
battle, but the experience convinced me that under similar 
circumstances I should always be likely to retain my presence 
of mind. 

The engagement at Ubstadt was a comparatively small 
affair, with no purpose on our side but to retard the advance 
of the enemy until the Badish army could have reformed in 
our rear, and then slowly to fall back upon its position. At 
Ubstadt this instruction was carried out in a comparatively 
orderly manner. That such things cannot be done as perfectly 
with hastily organized and indifferently disciplined volunteers 
as with well-schooled regular troops is a matter of course. 
The next day we had a more considerable engagement with the 
Prussian vanguard near Bruchsal, which again ended in a re- 
treat on our part. As frequently happens in popular upris- 
ings, excited people are apt to ascribe the failure of their 
enterprise to the treachery of this or that leader; and on this 
occasion the cry was raised against poor General Sznayde. 

[202] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
On the retreat he was suddenly surrounded by a baud of 
mutineers and dragged from his horse. He then disappeared 
from the scene of action, and the troops of the Palatinate were 
put under the immediate orders of the Badish commander. 

On the line of the Murg River, the left wing leaning on 
the fortress of Rastatt, the united corps of the revolutionists 
of Baden and of the Palatinate fought their last defensive 
fight on the 28th, 29th and 30th of June, 1849, in part 
very gallantly, although without success. On the evening 
of June 30 Lieutenant Colonel Anneke sent me with an 
instruction concerning artillery ammunition into the fortress 
of Rastatt, where I was to wait for him in a certain 
fortification from which we could observe a large part of 
the battlefield. There he would call for me, he said. I dis- 
charged my order and then went to the place indicated by 
my chief, tied my horse to a gun carriage and sat down on 
the rampart, where after having watched the fight outside for 
a little while I fell asleep from sheer fatigue in spite of the 
roaring of the cannon. When I awoke the sun was about to 
set. I inquired among the artillerymen standing around for 
Colonel Anneke, but nobody had seen him. I became restless 
and mounted my horse to look for my chief outside of 
the town. When I arrived at the gate the officer on duty 
informed me that I could not get out; that our army was 
pressed back toward the south, and that the fortress was com- 
pletely surrounded by the Prussians. I galloped to the head- 
quarters of the commander of the fortress and received there 
the confirmation of what I had heard. The prospect of re- 
maining in the city with Prussians all around, and this not in 
obedience to orders, but by mere accident, struck me as ex- 
ceedingly undesirable. I could not resign myself to it, and 
inquired again and again whether there was no way out, until 

[ 203 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
at last an officer standing near the gate said: ' I feel just as 
you do. I do not belong here and have tried all possible points 
where I thought I might slip through, but all in vain. We 
have to submit and remain." Of Anneke I found no trace. 
He had either left the city or perhaps had not been in it all. 

Having given up all hope of escape, I reported myself 
to the Governor of the fortress, Colonel Tiedemann. /He was 
a tall, slender man, with fine, regular features, and a bold, 
resolute expression of face. As the son of a privy counselor, 
a far-famed professor of medicine in Heidelberg, he had re- 
ceived a good education. In early youth his inclination led him 
into the army, and he followed to Athens the Bavarian Prince 
Otto, who became the first king of Greece. The revolution in 
Baden found him at home, and the provisional government 
entrusted to him the command of the fortress of Rastatt. 
He received me kindly, listened to my report, and attached me 
to his staff*. As to my duties, I was to report to him the next 
morning. I received quarters in the house of a confectioner 
by the name of Nusser. My host and his wife, very kind and 
well-mannered people, welcomed me heartily and put at my 
disposal a pleasant room and a seat at their table. Also my 
servant, Adam, a young soldier from the Palatinate, who for- 
tunately had followed me into the fortress, found shelter in 
the house. 

All this looked cheerful enough. But when my host and 
Adam had left me alone and I could, in the silence of my 
chamber, think over the new situation, my heart became 
heavy. That our cause, unless a miracle happened, was lost, I 
could no longer conceal from myself; and what kind of a 
miracle it might be, my hopeful imagination failed to guess. 
Could it be the passing over of the Prussian Landwehr to 
the revolutionary army? That would have been possible at the 

[204] 






z 

z 

*■" 

- 




a 

CO 

Z 

a 



THE REMINISCENCES OE CARL SCHURZ 
beginning of the campaign, if at all. Now, after a series of 
defeats that possibility had disappeared. Could it be a great 
victory of our troops in the highlands of Baden? Not to be 
thought of, as the retreat of our forces from the Murg River 
must have weakened them more by the inevitable demoraliza- 
tion than they could have been strengthened by reinforce- 
ments from other parts of the country. Could it be a great 
victory of the Hungarians in the East? But the Hungarians 
were far away and the Russians were marching upon them. 
Could it be a new uprising of the people in Germany? But^ 
the revolutionary impulse was evidently exhausted. Here we 
were shut up in a fortress surrounded by the Prussians. A 
stubborn defense of the fortress could serve our cause, only 
in so much as it might prove that a popular army could 
also possess courage and maintain its military honor. But 
under all circumstances the fortress could resist only a very 
limited time. And then? Capitulation. And then? We would 
fall into the hands of the Prussians. The supreme commander 
of the Prussian troops in Baden was " The Prince of Prus- V 
sia," in whom, at that time, nobody would have recog- 
nized the afterwards so popular Kaiser Wilhelm I. At that 
period the prince was regarded as the worst enemy of all 
movements for freedom. The generally credited rumor that 
it was he who on the 18th of March, 1848, in Berlin, had given 
the order to fire upon the people had earned for him, with the 
people, the title of the " Grapeshot Prince." The excitement 
of the masses against him during those days of March was in 
fact so violent that the king thought it best to send him away 
to England for some time, and this journey was carried out in 
a manner which looked very much like flight. That in the year 
1849 when the imperial crown was offered to his brother, 
Frederick William IV., he belonged to those who advised 

[ 205 ] * 






THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
a favorable consideration of that offer, and that if he 
instead of his brother had been king of Prussia, the crisis 
might have taken a turn much more propitious to the realiza- 
tion of German unity,' was at that time not yet known ; nor 
would it have found much belief, for the prince of Prussia 
was then generally thought to be an honest and inflexible 
absolutist, who candidly and firmly believed that kings were 
ordained by God and had to render account only to God; that 
the people must have nothing to do with the business of the 
government ; that resistance to the kingly power was equivalent 
to a direct offense against God Himself, and that it was an im- 
portant duty of those in power to impose upon such a crime the 
heaviest possible penalty. So in the minds of the people the 
prince appeared as a fanatical soldier to whom the Prus- 
sian army was a very idol; who saw in it the " sword of God," 
the bulwark of the order of the universe; in whose eyes the 
Prussian subject that fought against the Prussian army com- 
mitted an unpardonable crime not less accursed than patricide 
itself, and from whom such a criminal could expect no grace. 
We natives of Prussia, therefore, if we fell into the hands of 
that prince, had the best possible prospects of being con- 
demned to death by a drumhead court-martial and of being 
shot.' With these dismal thoughts I went to bed. Neverthe- 
less I slept soundly and awoke long after sunrise. 

The duties assigned to me by the governor were not oner- 
ous. I had to spend certain hours on the highest gallery of the 
tower of the castle, armed with a telescope, to observe the 
enemy and to make report of what I might see. Then I had, 
periodically, to visit certain bastions and gates, and to inspect 
certain watches, and in addition to do such other things as the 
governor might see proper to entrust to me. /To fit me for 
that duty I donned the uniform of a regular infantry lieuten- 

[206] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
ant of the Badish army, which transformed me into a respecta- 
ble-looking officer and gave me a sort of military consciousness 
which until then I had not possessed. 

Colonel Tiedemann succeeded in maintaining among the 
garrison — which was composed partly of regular Badish 
soldiers and partly of volunteers — pretty good discipline. 
Only once, as far as I can remember, I witnessed a serious 
breach of order. Some soldiers thought they had detected 
a spy, and soon a furious crowd rushed after the poor 
fellow, who tried to save himself by flight, but who succumbed 
after a few steps to the saber thrusts and stones hurled at him. 
It was all the work of a moment. The officers who accidentally 
were near, among them myself, succeeded, after a while, in 
quieting the soldier mob, but we were unable to save the 
victim. We had also other excitements. 

)Lj: One morning, shortly after break of day, I was awakened 
by a violent explosion on the street immediately under my 
window. As I jumped out of bed the thought struck me that 
the Prussians might, during the night, have penetrated into 
the city, and that there was now a street fight going on. A 
second explosion, immediately above the house, and the rat- 
tling noise of heavy objects falling upon the roof, taught 
me that the fortress was being bombarded, and that a shell had 
knocked down the chimney of my house. One explosion came 
after another, and the guns of our fortress boomed in response. 
I hurried as quickly as possible to headquarter in the castle and 
there I beheld a heartrending spectacle. The court of the 
castle was crowded with citizens, among them many women 
and children who had fled out of their houses and instinctively 
sought in the vicinity of the commander, protection against 
the threatening catastrophe. Most of the grown-up people, 
and even some of the children, carried beds or boxes and all 

[ 207 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
other house belongings on their heads or under their arms. 
As often as a shell rushed over the castle yard or exploded in 
the vicinity, the poor people, overcome by terror, threw down 
all they were carrying and ran toward shelter, screaming and 
wringing their hands. Then a moment of silence would inter- 
vene and they picked up their goods and chattels from the 
ground ; but as soon as another shell came along the same scene 
repeated itself. We staff officers had our hands full in trying to 
quiet the people, and as far as possible to place them in safety 
in the bomb-proof casemates of the fortress. Meantime the 
church-bells began to peal and a multitude — women with 
their children, and not a few men — ran across the market-place 
to the church, where, with loud lamentations, they prayed God 
to save them. 

The bombardment, however, was not very serious. It 
lasted only a few hours, and did very little damage. A few 
fires caused by it were speedily extinguished. The Prussians 
probably intended only to let us know that the surrender of 
the fortress must not be too long delayed, if we would avoid 
greater discomfort. Thus we were bombarded only with field 
pieces and a few mortars. The heavy siege guns were to be 
brought on if it should be necessary to compel surrender 
by extreme means. The governor preferred, however, for the 
time being, to continue defense, and the next day a sortie was 
undertaken to drive away the battery that had annoyed us. 
The officer who commanded that sortie afterwards reported 
that the mortars had been taken and spiked by our men. 

Beyond this nothing of great importance happened. 
With the higher officers of the garrison I came into contact 
as a member of the staff, but as I was still a very young man 
our intercourse was not intimate. The principal figures that I 
remember were Colonel Biedenfeld, a stiff old soldier who had 

[208] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
been an officer in the regular army of Baden; Colonel 
Bohning, a white-haired, venerable-looking free corps com- 
mander; Major Heilig, the chief of artillery, about six and a 
half feet in height, a kindly and very popular officer; Lieuten- 
ant Colonel Otto von Corvin, a strikingly handsome young 
soldier, who had been a lieutenant in the Prussian army, and 
who, if I remember rightly, like myself, had remained in the 
fortress accidentally; and Major Mahler, a former lieutenant 
in the regular army of Baden, a young, gay infantry officer 
who, many years afterwards, fought for the Union under my 
command as a Colonel of the Seventy-fifth Pennsylvania, and 
who was killed at Gettysburg. 

The duty which most interested me was that of the look- 
out, from the height of the castle tower. From there I had a 
magnificent view — toward the east the mountains in which 
Baden-Baden is nestled; toward the north the smiling 
Rhine valley with its rich fields and vineyards, its shady 
forests and the church steeples of many villages hidden 
among the fruit trees; toward the south the Black Forest; 
to the west Alsatia on the opposite side of the Rhine, 
with far-away blue mountain lines. How beautiful was all 
this! How benevolent Nature in her rich, lavish goodness! 
And over there, in these apparently peaceful surroundings, 
lay "The Enemy," who had us firmly in his grasp. There I 
saw the outposts regularly relieved, and the patrols of horse- 
men busily moving to and fro, keeping a sharp eye upon us 
so that not a soul of us should escape them. There I saw the 
batteries of the enemy ready to hurl destruction and death at 
us. There I saw their camps teeming with human beings, 
many of whom, aye, perhaps a large majority, thought as we 
thought and desired what we desired — possibly among them 
children of neighbors in my native village — and yet, all pre- 

[209] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
pared at the command of their superiors, to fire the deadly 
bullet into our breasts. And over all this there streamed down 
in those summer days the beautiful sunlight of heaven, so 
warm and so peaceably radiant, as if there were nothing but 
harmony and happiness in the world. All this so cruelly 
unnatural, and yet so cruelly true! 

A strange life that was in the besieged fortress. With 
the exception of one sortie, there being no further fighting ex- 
citement, we soldiers did our routine service day after day 
with mechanical precision, and the burghers pursued what 
occupation there still remained to them, all in a state of 
strained expectation, waiting for the fate that could not be 
averted. The world outside lay far, far away from us in un- 
measurable distance. There we sat within our ramparts, ex- 
cluded from all humanity, as if we did not belong to it. Not 
a sound of it penetrated to us except a distant rolling of the 
drum or the trumpet signals of the enemy besieging us. From 
time to time mysterious rumors arose, of which nobody knew 
whence they came. Our troops, it was once said, had won a 
great victory in the upper country and driven the Prussians 
before them. Then a fresh revolution had broken out in 
France, and all Germany was in new commotion. Then the 
Hungarians had disastrously defeated the united Austrians 
and Russians, and were ready to send their victorious legions to 
the aid of the German revolutionists. Once the higher officers 
of the garrison rushed up to me on the observation tower be- 
cause somebody had actually heard, in the direction of the 
upper country, a long continuing thunder of cannon, con- 
stantly approaching; and now they had come to see the 
clouds of dust raised by the columns advancing to our relief. 
But the imagined thunder of artillery was inaudible to us ; all 
remained still, and we sank back into our dull hopelessness, 

[210 J 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
Sometimes we tried to amuse ourselves with frolics in the 
wine houses — for the town was still well provided with wine. 
Then there was occasionally an effort at gayety, but it 
was little more than an effort, for everybody knew that be- 
hind his chair stood the dark specter of the inevitable catas- 
trophe. 

Suddenly one day — it was in the third week of the siege — 
a Prussian officer, under a flag of truce, came into the fortress 
with a summons to surrender, bringing the news that the revo- 
lutionary army had crossed the Swiss frontier, and had 
therefore ceased to exist; that not a single armed insur- 
gent remained on German soil, and that the Prussian com- 
mander would consent to permit any man whom the garrison 
of Rastatt would entrust with such a mission, to convince him- 
self of these facts with his own eyes, and to this end they would 
give him safe conduct wherever he might wish to go. This 
caused tremendous excitement. At once the governor called 
a general council of war, which, if I remember rightly, con- 
sisted of all officers of the garrison from captain upward. The 
council met promptly in the great hall of the castle. After a 
stormy discussion it was resolved that the offer of the Prus- 
sian commander should be accepted, and Lieutenant Colonel 
Corvin received the commission to explore the condition of 
things outside; and in case he found it to be as the Prussian 
flag of truce had represented, to negotiate for a capitulation 
on conditions as favorable as could be obtained. 

The hall in the castle in which that council of war was 
held, had been, during the siege, always accessible to me, and 
one of the big lounges, upholstered with yellow silk damask, 
had been my accustomed resting place when I returned from 
my observations on the castle tower, or from my rounds 
through the fortress. I had selected this sofa because from it 

[211] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
I had an especially good view of a fresco on the ceiling which 
had a peculiar charm for me. It was an allegorical group, in 
which probably some ancestor of the grand ducal family of 
Baden was portrayed in the shape of Jupiter, or Mars, or 
Apollo. The subject of the picture did not attract me. But I 
found therein the face of some goddess which reminded me 
vividly of Betty, and when I looked up from my sofa the eyes 
of Betty looked kindly down upon me. No wonder, therefore, 
that I loved to rest upon this spot and that I indulged myself 
in all sorts of waking dreams, forgetting my dismal situation, 
until my eyes closed in sleep. 

On the second morning after Corvin's departure, in 
the gray dawn I lay down upon the sofa for a short 
rest. Soon I was awakened by the noise of heavy steps, rat- 
tling sabers and a confusion of voices. From what I saw 
and heard I concluded that Corvin had returned from his 
mission and that the great council of war was reassembling. 
The governor entered, demanded silence and asked Corvin, 
who stood at his side, to make his report orally to the whole 
assembly. Corvin then told us that, accompanied by a Prus- 
sian officer, he had traveled down to the Swiss frontier and 
had convinced himself on the spot that no revolutionary force 
was left in Baden, the revolutionary army having crossed into 
Switzerland, surrendered its arms, and dissolved. He had also 
satisfied himself from the newspapers, that in the rest of Ger- 
many there was not the slightest vestige of a revolutionary 
movement. Everywhere submission and quiet. The Hun- 
garians, too, had suffered decisive defeats in consequence 
of the Russian intervention and would undoubtedly soon suc- 
cumb. In short, the garrison of Rastatt was entirely forsaken, 
and could not hope for any relief; and finally, Corvin added, 
he had been informed at Prussian headquarters that the com- 

[ 212] 







< tt 








(\ c<r — {).»■>. A?*j 



A PRUSSIAN OFFICER, UNDER A FLAG OF TRUCE 

SURRENDER " 



WITH A SIMMONS TO 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
mander of the besieging army would insist upon a surren- 
der of the fortress at discretion, without conditions of any 

kind. 

Deep silence followed this speech. Every one of the hear- 
ers felt that Corvin had told the truth. Finally, somebody— I 
do not remember who — asked to be allowed to put some ques- 
tions. Then there was a confusion of voices in which some hot- 
heads talked of "dying to the last man"; whereupon the 
governor gave the floor to a former Prussian soldier, 
who had become an officer in the forces of the Palatinate. 
This officer said that he was as ready as anyone to sacrifice 
to our cause his last drop of blood, and that those of us 
who were Prussians, when they fell into the hands of the be- 
sieging army, would have to die in any case. Nevertheless 
he advised the immediate surrender of the fortress. If we did 
not surrender to-day, we would be obliged to do it to-morrow. 
We ought not to expose the citizens of the town, with their 
wives and children, to famine, or to another bombardment, and 
all in vain. It was time to make an end, whatever might hap- 
pen to us personally. A murmur swept through the hall ap- 
proving this advice, and then it was resolved that Corvin 
should try once more to secure, at the Prussian headquarters, 
for the officers and men of our garrison as favorable condi- 
tions as possible. But if after a reasonable effort he saw the 
impossibility of obtaining such conditions, he should agree 
with the Prussian headquarters upon the necessary arrange- 
ments for a surrender at discretion. When we left the hall 
most of us undoubtedly felt that nothing else could be hoped 
for. 

That afternoon I mounted once more my tower of obser- 
vation upon which I had spent so many watchful and dreamy 
hours. The magnificent landscape lay before me in the beauti- 

[213] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
ful sunshine. It appeared to me even more beautiful than 
ever. I felt as if I must take a last leave of it. 

" We Prussians will probably have to die in any case." 
These words echoed in my ear, and I was convinced of their 
truth. To these Prussians I belonged. I remember vividly 
the thoughts which then on that tower of observation went 
through my head. One recollection forced itself again and 
again upon my mind, how a few years before my father had, 
with me, visited Professor Piitz in Cologne; how the pro- 
fessor had put his hand upon my shoulder and smilingly said 
to my father, "A hopeful boy"; and how proudly then my 
father had nodded his head and looked at me. ' Of that 
hopeful boy there is now an end," I said to myself. Many 
of the bold dreams of a great and fruitful activity which 
I had formerly cherished recurred to me, and it seemed 
hard, very hard, to depart from the world before I had been 
permitted to render it any worthy service. A sensation of pro- 
found sorrow came over me, not on account of myself alone, 
but also on account of my parents who had expected so i^uch 
of me, to whom I was to be the support of old age, and who 
now saw all their hopes shattered and destroyed forever. 
Finally, nothing remained to me but the determination if I 
was so to end, to look my fate in the eyes with courage and 
dignity. 

I remained on the gallery of the observation tower until 
the sun was down. Then I descended and reported myself to 
the governor, whether he still had orders for the night. "To- 
night," he said, " every one of my officers ought to be on the 
ramparts. I apprehend that the men know that we shall sur- 
render to-morrow, and will leave their posts. That should not 
be." I was glad to have something to do that would occupy 
my thoughts. Ln the fortifications and in the town there was 

[ 214] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
now a great deal of noise and confusion. Many of the men re- 
garded it as superfluous to take further care of the service; 
it would be all over anyhow the next day. There was also 
much hubbub in the wine houses, when the soldiers would have 
have their last cup together. But the admonitions addressed 
by the officers to the men who were running about or drinking 
did not find any vicious resistance. The number of those who 
still continued to do their duty was sufficient to maintain tol- 
erable order. 

Toward daybreak I stretched myself once more on my 
accustomed sofa, and after several hours of profound sleep 
woke up with the thought, " To-day you will be taken by the 
Prussians, to be shot dead." Then I went to headquarters, 
where I learned that Corvin had not succeeded in nego- 
tiating any conditions, and that the surrender at discretion 
was a certain thing. At twelve o'clock noon the troops were to 
march through the gates to lay down their arms between two 
lines of Prussians outside on the glacis of the fortress. 
The orders had already been issued. I went to my quarters 
to write a last letter to my parents. I thanked them for all 
the love and care they had devoted to me, and asked them to 
forgive me if I had disappointed their hopes. I told them that 
following my honest convictions I had taken up arms for a 
cause that I believed to be right, for the liberty and unity of 
the German people, and if it should be my lot to die for that 
cause, it would be an honorable death of which they would 
never have reason to be ashamed. This letter I put into the 
hands of good Mr. Nusser, my host, who, with tears in his eyes, 
promised to put it into the mail as soon as communications 
should be opened again. In the meanwhile the hour of noon 
approached. Already I heard the signals calling the troops on 
the ramparts and in the barracks to the rally, and I prepared 

[215 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
myself to go up to headquarters. Then a new idea suddenly 
flashed through my head. I remembered that only a few days 
previously my attention had been attracted to a subterranean 
sewer for the waters of the street gutters which, near the 
Steinmauerner gate, led from the interior of the city, under the 
fortifications, into an open field outside. This sewer was prob- 
ably a part of an uncompleted drainage system. The entrance to 
it in the interior of the city was situated in a trench near a gar- 
den hedge. Outside it emptied into a ditch overgrown with 
shrubbery, which bordered a corn field. When these circum- 
stances had first come to my knowledge, it had occurred to me 
that if the opening as well as the exit of that sewer were not well 
watched, spies might easily pass through it from the outside 
into the town. I had reported the matter to the governor, but 
immediately afterwards came the negotiations with the enemy, 
the mission of Corvin, and the excitement about the impend- 
ing capitulation, which drove the affair of the sewer out of my 
mind. 

Now at the last moment before the surrender the re- 
membrance came back to me like a ray of light. Would it not 
be possible for me to escape through that sewer? Would it not, 
if I thus gained the open in this way, be possible in some man- 
ner to reach the Rhine, there to procure a boat and to cross 
the river to the French side? My resolution was promptly 
taken — I would at least try. 

I called my servant, who had prepared my belongings for 
the surrender. " Adam," I said, " you are a Palatinate man, a 
volunteer. I believe if you surrender to the Prussians you will 
soon be sent home. I am a Prussian, and us Prussians thev 
will probably shoot dead. I will therefore try to escape, and I 
know a way. Let us therefore say good-bye." 

' No, Herr Lieutenant," Adam exclaimed, " I shall not 

[216] 



THE REMINISCENCES OE CARL SCIIURZ 
leave you. Where you go, I go." The eyes of the good hoy 
sparkled with pleasure. 

" But," said I, " you have nothing to gain, and we shall 
probably have to incur great dangers." 

" Danger or no danger," replied Adam, with decision, " I 
remain with you." 

At this moment I saw an artillery officer of the name of 
Neustadter, whom I knew well, pass by my window. lie, like 
myself, was born in Rhenish Prussia, and had formerly served 
in the Prussian artillery. 

" Where are you going, Neustadter?' I called to him 
through the window. 

" To join my battery," he answered. " We are to surren- 
der in half an hour." 

" The Prussians will shoot you dead," I replied; " go with 
me and let us try to escape." 

He stopped, came into the house and listened to my plan, 
which I explained to him in a few words. 

" Good," he said; " I will go with you." 

There was now no time to be lost. Adam was sent out to 
purchase a loaf of bread, two bottles of wine and some 
sausages. Then we put our pistols under our clothes, and 
rolled up our cloaks. In mine, a large dark cape lined with 
scarlet, received recently from our stores, I wrapped up a 
short carbine which I possessed. The bottles and the eatables 
which Adam had bought were packed up as well as we knew 
how. In the meantime the garrison began to march in close 
columns across the market-place. We followed the last column 
a short distance, and then turning into a side lane soon reached 
the inner mouth of our sewer. Without hesitation we slipped 
into it. It was between one and two o'clock in the afternoon of * 
the 23d of July. 

[217] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
The sewer was a tube of brick masonry, sufficiently high 
and wide for us to move through it with bent knees and 
curved backs, half walking, half crawling. The water run- 
ning through the sewer covered our feet and ankles. As we 
penetrated into the interior we found, here and there, narrow 
manholes covered on top with iron gratings, through which 
air and, during the day, some light came down. At such places 
we rested a moment and stretched ourselves out so as to get 
our spines into shape again. According to our calculation we 
should have reached about the middle of the sewer, when I 
happened to strike my foot against a piece of board lying in 
the water, which was just long enough to be squeezed between 
the walls of the sewer so that it served us as a sort of bench to 
sit upon. Upon this bench, which made our condition a little 
more comfortable, we huddled together for a longer rest. 

Until then the constant movement to which we had been 
compelled had hardly permitted us to survey our situation. 
Now, sitting on the bench, we had leisure enough to collect our 
thoughts and to h< >ld council as to what was further to be done. 
During the siege I had had frequent opportunity to observe 
the immediate surroundings of the fortress, and I therefore 
pretty well knew the ground on which the sewer emptied out- 
side. I proposed to my companions that we should remain on 
the bench until about midnight, then leave the sewer, and seek 
cover in a field planted with corn, which I knew to be in the 
neighborhood. From there we could, if the sky was tolerably 
clear, overlook a little part of the road to Steinmauern, a village 
distant about an hour's walk from Rastatt, on the bank of the 
Rhine, and assure ourselves whether we might leave the protec- 
tion of the cornfield without danger. And so, seeking cover 
from time to time in order to reconnoiter the road ahead of us, 
we might hope before daybreak to reach Steinmauern and there 

[ 218 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
to find a boat that might carry us to the French side of the 
river. This plan was approved by my companions. 

While we were thus engaged in taking counsel, we heard 
above us a dull, rumbling noise as from the wheels of vehicles 
and the heavy tread of great masses of men, from which we 
concluded that the Prussians were now entering the fortress 
and occupying the gates and the ramparts. We also heard the 
striking of a church clock which gave the hour, our bench 
being near one of the manholes, so that the sounds of the up- 
per world reached us without much difficulty. About nine 
o'clock in the evening it began to rain so heavily that we could 
clearly hear the splashing of the water as it poured down. At 
first it seemed to us that the bad weather would be favorable 
to our plan of escape. But before long the matter appeared 
in a different light. We felt that the water was rising in our 
sewer, and soon it began to shoot through it with great ve- 
hemence like a mountain stream. After a while it flooded the 
bench upon which we were sitting and reached up to our 
chests. We also perceived living creatures which suddenly, 
with great activity, rushed and crawled around us. They were 
undoubtedly rats. " We have to get out," I said to my com- 
panions, " or we shall be drowned." We left our bench and 
pushed forward. I had hardly advanced a few r steps when in 
the darkness I ran my head against a hard object. I touched 
it with my hands and discovered that the obstacle was an iron 
railing. At once the thought came to me that this railing had 
been put there for the purpose of cutting off, in time of siege, 
communication through the sewer between the interior of the 
town and the outside. This thought, which I communicated 
at once to my companions, brought us almost to despair. But 
when I grasped the railing with both hands, as a prisoner may 
sometimes shake the iron rods of his dungeon window, I no- 

[219] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
ticed that it could be moved a' little, and a further examination 
proved that it did n >t reach quite down to the bottom, but left 
a free space of about two feet. It was probably so arranged 
that it could be pulled up or let down, so that the sewer might 
be opmed for purposes of cleaning and then shut again. For- 
tunately, nobody had, during the seige, known anything of this 
railing, and thus the possibility of escape still remained open 
to us. 

Now, in order to slip through the low aperture under it 
we were obliged to crawl with our whole bodies through the 
water; but that circumstance, although disagreeable, did not 
disturb us. We pushed vigorously on, and when we believed 
ourselves to be near the outward opening of the sewer, we 
stopped a minute to gather strength and presence of mind for 
the dangerous moment of our issuing forth from our conceal- 
ment. 

Then a terrible sound struck our ears. Close ahead of us, 
distant only a few paces, we heard a voice call, " Who goes 
there?" and at once another voice answered, "Good friend." 
We stood still as if struck by lightning. In a short time we 
heard the same calls repeat themselves at a somewhat greater 
distance, and again and again. It was clear that we were close 
to the opening of the sewer, that outside there was a dense 
chain of Prussian guard posts, and that just then a patrol or 
round had been passing along that chain. Softly I ventured a 
step or two further on. Really, there was the mouth of the 
sewer overgrown with brush so thick that I stood in darkness 
almost as dense as was that in the interior of the canal. But 
when I raised myself up a little I could distinctly perceive the 
dark figures of a Prussian double sentinel immediately before 
me, as well as some camp fires at a short distance. Had we 
been able to get into the open without being noticed, which 

[ 220] 



THE REMINISCENCES ^F CARL SCHURZ 
seemed almost impossible, still the ro^d to Steinmauern was 
evidently closed to us. •' 

Softly as we had come we crawled back into our sewer and 
sought safety there, at least for the moment. Fortunately the 
rain had ceased. The water was, indeed, still high, but 't did 
not rise any more. " Back to our bench," I whispered to my 
companions. We crawled again under the railing and found 
our bit of plank. There we sat close together. Our next coun- 
cil of war had a certain solemnity about it. There were few 
words, but a good deal of thinking. It was clear, we could not 
venture into the open. To remain a longer time in the sewer 
was not to be thought of, because there was the danger that if 
it rained again we might be drowned. There was therefore 
nothing to be done but to go back into the town. But how 
• aid we go back into the town without falling into the hands 
of the Prussians? After we had exchanged these thoughts in 
a whisper, a long pause followed. At last I interrupted the 
silence, saying, "Let us eat and drink a little; good counsel 
may come then." Adam unpacked our provisions, and as we 
had eaten nothing since breakfast time of the preceding day — 
midnight was now long past — hunger and thirst were keen. 
Our bread was, indeed, quite wet, but it tasted good; also the 
sausages. We remembered, in time, that we must not consume 
our whole store, for we did not know when and where we 
should get the next meal. Moreover, we were more troubled 
by thirst than by hunger, as is always the case under such cir- 
cumstances. For nearly twelve hours our feet had been in the 
water, and were therefore as cold as ice. This had driven the 
blood to our heads. Adam now opened one of the two bottles 
which he had bought for us, and we discovered that they con- 
tained rum instead of wine. Although rum had always been 
repugnant to me, still I drank like my companions, in eager 

[221 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
draughts, and my brain remained entirely clear in spite 

of it. 

After we had finished our meal Adam took the floor. ' I 
have a widowed cousin in the town," he said. ' Her house is 
not far from the entrance to the sewer. To reach it we have 
only to go through a kitchen garden or two. We might hide 
ourselves there in the barn until we find something better." 

This proposition had our approval, and we resolved to 
make the attempt. At the same moment something occurred 
to me that was depressing in the extreme. -I remembered that 
during the siege our garrison had a sentinel close to the en- 
trance of the sewer. If this post was occupied by the Prussians 
too, then we sat in the sewer between two Prussian guards. I 
communicated my apprehension to my companions. But what 
was to be done? Possibly the Prussians had not occupied that 
post. Perhaps we might slip by. In any case, nothing else 
remained to us than to make the attempt. 

When we left our bench to begin our retreat, we heard 
the church clock outside strike three. I went ahead and soon 
reached the last manhole. I availed myself of the opportunity 
to stretch myself out a little, when something happened that 
at the first moment appeared very unfortunate. I had used 
my short carbine in moving through the canal in a bent posi- 
tion, as a sort of crutch. When I lifted myself up the carbine 
fell from my arm into the water and caused a loud splash. 
'Hello!' cried a voice just above me. "Hello! There is 
something in this hole; come here." At the same moment a bayo- 
net descended like a probe through the grating which covered 
the manhole. I heard it strike against the iron rods in time to 
duck myself and thus avoid being touched by it. " Now out 
quickly!" I whispered to my companions, "or we are lost." 
With a few hasty paces we reached the end of the sewer. 

[222] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
Without looking around we jumped over a hedge into the 
nearest kitchen garden, and gained, with a rapid run, a second 
hedge, which we cleared in the same way. Then we halted, 
hreathless under cover of some shrubs, to listen whether any- 
body was following us. We heard nothing. It is probable 
that the falling of my carbine into the water attracted the at- 
tention of the guard post in the immediate vicinity, and di- 
verted it from the mouth of the sewer. Thus our escape may 
have been facilitated by the accident, which at first seemed so 
unfortunate. 

When Adam looked around from our halting place he 
found that we were close by the house of his cousin. We leaped 
another hedge which separated us from the kitchen garden 
belonging to that house, but there we were greeted by the loud 
barking of a dog. To pacify the animal we sacrificed the last 
remnant of our sausages. Finding the door of the barn open, 
we entered it, stretched ourselves out on a pile of hay, and soon 
fell into a profound sleep. 

But this rest was not to last long. I awoke suddenly and 
heard the church clock strike six. Adam had already risen and 
said he would now go into the house to ask his cousin what she 
could do for us. After a few minutes he returned and the 
cousin with him. I still see her before me — a woman of about 
thirty years, with a pale face and wide-open, anxious eyes. 
"For God's sake," she said, "what are you doing here? You 
cannot remain. This morning some Prussian cavalrymen will 
be quartered here, and they will surely look in the barn for 
litter for their horses. Then they will find you and we shall all 
be lost." 

" But be reasonable, cousin," said Adam; ' where can we 
go now? You certainly will not deliver us up." 

But the poor woman was beside herself with fear, ' If 

[223] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
you do not go," she replied, with decision, " I must tell the 
soldiers that you are here. You cannot expect me to sacrifice 
myself and my children for you." 

There was more talk, but all in vain. We had no choice; 
we must leave the barn. But where to go? The woman showed 
us through the open door a ditch covered with high and thick 
shrubbery on the other side of the little yard, in which we might 
hide ourselves. Our situation became desperate. There we 
stood, all three in the military uniform of Baden, easily recog- 
nizable as the soldiers of the revolutionary army. Now we w y ere 
to have no other refuge but some shrubbery covering a ditch 
in the midst of a toAvn teeming with hostile troops! Of course, 
we hesitated to leave the barn, although it was a dangerous 
resting place for us, but at any rate it offered us a roof over 
our heads, and perhaps it might be possible to find in it some 
hiding corner. We still hoped that Adam's cousin would yield 
to our prayers. She went to the house, as she had to expect 
every moment the arrival of the cavalrymen. After about half 
an hour she came back and said the cavalrymen were there 
and were just sitting at their breakfast. Now was the moment 
for us to pass through the yard without being seen by them. 
She insisted on this with such determination that we had to 
submit. Then we ran across the yard to the ditch, which on the 
opposite side was separated from the street by a tall board 
fence. It again rained hard, and in the immediate vicinity 
nobody seemed to be stirring. Thus we could, with some assur- 
ance, explore our new refuge. We found that at the end of 
the ditch cord wood was heaped up in the form of a hollow 
square, open on the side toward us. We could slip through 
the brush into the square and were in that close space pretty 
well protected from the eyes of the passerby. There we sat 
down on blocks of wood. 

[224] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
But what was to become of us now? The discomfort of 
our miserable situation, as well as our sitting there wet to the 
skin, we might easily have borne had we had the slightest pros- 
pect of escape. My faithful Adam, otherwise so good-natured, 
was much wrought up over the conduct of his cousin. Neu- 
stadter regarded our situation as hopeless, and asked whether 
it was not better to put an end to our distress by a voluntary 
surrender to the soldiers in the house. I must confess that my 
sanguine temperament, too, was severely tested. Still I gath- 
ered up courage, and we then resolved to trust to luck. 
So we sat there hour after hour waiting for something to 
turn up, with the heavy rain mercilessly streaming down on 
us, pictures of misery. About noon we heard steps in the gar- 
den near our place of concealment. Cautiously I looked out 
from the open side of our cord wood square, and perceived 
coming from the house a man with a saw in his hand. Accord- 
ing to his looks and the tool he carried I concluded he 
must be a laborer, and as the laboring men throughout were 
in favor of the revolutionary cause, I did not hesitate to con- 
fide myself to him. I threw a little chip of wood at the man, 
which hit him on the arm, and as he stood still I attracted his 
attention by a low cough. He saw me and came to us. With 
as few words as possible I explained to him our situation, and 
begged him to find us a place of safety, and also to procure for 
us something to eat, as our last morsel was gone. My confi- 
dence was not misplaced. He promised to do what was pos- 
sible, Then he left, but returned in half an hour, and showed 
us near by a large open shed. At the end of that shed there 
was a little closed compartment in which the laborers probably 
deposited their tools, and on top of this, under the roof of the 
shed, a small loft enclosed in boards. " I will break loose one 
of these boards," said our man. " You can then climb over the 

[225] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
cord wood and slip under the roof of the loft and lie down 
there. I will soon come back and bring you something to eat." 

We followed his advice, and succeeded in slipping into 
the little loft without being observed. The space we occupied 
was just large enough to permit us to lie side by side on our 
backs. We lay in a white dust, inches thick, which was, in view 
of the wet condition of our clothing, extremely disagreeable. 
But at least we felt secure for the time being. It was about 
one o'clock of the afternoon when we crawled into our new 
asylum. We waited quietly for our friend to bring us the nec- 
essary food, and would then consult with him about a plan of 
escape. But we heard the church clock strike two, three, and 
four, and our man did not return. Shortly after four o'clock 
a lively noise arose in the shed below. From the talk and the 
shouting and the rumbling we heard we concluded that a 
troop of cavalrymen must have arrived, and that they were 
now occupied in putting the shed in order for their horses. 
The horses came soon, and on all sides soldiers swarmed around 
us. Through the chinks of the wooden wall of our loft we 
could easily see them. Our situation became extremely critical. 
If it had occurred to one of those soldiers to investigate the 
compartment and to look into the loft, it would have been all 
over with us. Any kind of noise, a cough or a sneeze, would 
have betrayed us. We took the utmost pains to breathe softly, 
and longed for the night. The night came and we were still 
undiscovered, but the man on whose assistance we had counted 
had not yet shown himself. 

We began to be very hungry and thirsty, and had neither 
a bit of bread nor a drop of water. What was left of our rum 
had been lost on the hasty run from the sewer to the house. 
Now we lay still like corpses. Gradually it became more quiet 
in the shed; soon we heard heavy snoring, and from time 

[226] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
to time somebody moving around, probably to look after the 
horses. We were afraid to sleep ourselves, although very 
much exhausted. But at last we came to a whispered agree- 
ment alternately to sleep and to lie awake, and to shake the 
temporary sleeper if he breathed heavily. So the night passed 
over and morning came, but not the friend whom we so long- 
ingly, expected. Noon, afternoon, evening, the whole second 
day, passed, but of our friend no sign. There we lay, still and 
stiff, surrounded by hostile soldiers, and the prospect of succor 
growing less every moment. Thirst began to torture us. For- 
tunately the next night it rained again. Above my head there 
was a broken tile in the roof, and through the hole, although it 
was small, some of the rain trickled down. I caught it in the 
hollow of my hand, and so enjoyed a refreshing draught. My 
companions followed my example. Again morning came, and 
our hope for the return of our friend sank lower and lower. 
The church clock struck one hour after another, and no aid. 
My limbs began to ache from the rigid stiffness of our position, 
and yet we hardly dared to move. Three days and two nights * 
we had been without nourishment, and an unwonted feeling of 
weakness set in. So the third night arrived. All hope of the 
coming of our friend was gone. We recognized the necessity 
of making a new attempt at escape before our strength had 
entirely vanished. We thought and thought, without saying a 
word, except, perhaps, " He will not come any more." 

At last I had an idea. When, during the third night, we 

heard the soldiers below snoring vigorously, I whispered to my 

neighbor, Neustadter, holding my mouth close to his ear. 

' Did you not, as we clambered over the cord wood, notice a 

little house about fifty paces from here? " 

" Yes," said Neustadter. 

"There must be a poor man living there," I continued, 

[227] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
' probably a laborer. One of us must go to him and see whether 
he cannot help us. I should be glad to go myself, but I would 
have to clamber over you [Neustadter lay nearest to the open- 
ing in the board wall], and that might make a noise. You are, 
anyhow, the lightest of us. Will you try? " 

" Yes." 

I had a little money, for immediately before the capitu- 
lation we had received our soldiers' pay. 

' Take my purse," I whispered, ' and give to the man 
who lives in the little house ten florins, or as much as he asks. 
Tell him to bring us some bread and wine, or water, and to 
inform himself as soon as possible whether or not the Prussian 
guard posts are still standing outside of the fortress. If those 
posts have been drawn in, we can try to-morrow night again 
to get through the sewer. Now go and bring us a piece of 
bread if you can." 

" Good," said Neustadter. 

In a minute, lightly and softly like a cat, he had slipped 
through the hole in the board wall. My heart beat fast while 
he was gone. A false step, an accidental noise, would betray 
him. But in less than half an hour he came back just as lightly 
and softly as before, and lay down by my side. 

' It is all right," he whispered; " here is a piece of bread, 
all he had in the house, and also an apple that in passing by I 
picked from a tree, but I am afraid it is still green." 

The bread and the apple were soon divided among us, 
and devoured with avidity; and then Neustadter reported with 
his mouth to my ear, that he found in the little house a man 
and his wife. The man, to whom he had given the ten gulden, 
had promised to bring us some food, and also the desired 
information about the condition of things outside of the 
fortress. 

[228] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 

This refreshed our spirits, and, much relieved, we slept 
alternately until high morning. Now we expected with every 
moment our rescuer, but one hour after another passed and 
he did not come. Were we again to be disappointed? At last, 
about noon, we heard somebody in the compartment immedi- 
ately below us noisily moving things from one place to 
another; then a low cough. The next moment a head appeared 
in the opening of our board wall, and a man climbed up to us. 
It was our new friend. He brought a basket apparently filled 
with tools, but out of the depth of which he took two bottles 
of wine, a couple of sausages and a large loaf of bread. 

" This is something for hunger and thirst," our friend 
whispered. " I have been also all around the city. The Prus- 
sian guard posts are no longer outside. I shall be glad to help 
you; only tell me what I am to do." 

I now asked him to go to Steinmauern and look for a boat 
which in the coming night might take us across the Rhine. 
Then, about midnight, to be in the cornfield near the Stein- 
mauern gate, outside of the fortress, and wait for us. He 
would hear the signal of a whistle ; this he should answer, and 
then join us in order to take us to the boat. He should ask his 
wife to have something for us to eat at about eleven o'clock of 
the night. 

I gave him a little more money, and he promised to do all 
I had asked, and disappeared again as he had come. Now 
we held a royal feast, during which our good humor made 
it very difficult for us to preserve the necessary silence. All 
the longer appeared to us the ensuing hours that were so full 
of hope and at the same time of anxiety. About two o'clock 
we heard the rattling of musketry at a distance. 

"What is that?" whispered Neustadter. "There, they 

are killing somebody." 

[229] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
So it seemed to me. We took it as an indication of the lot 
that would be ours if we were captured. In fact, however, as 
we learned subsequently, the executions began only a few 
days later. What we had heard was probably some shots fired 
in cleaning guns. 

Toward three o'clock a great ado began in the shed below. 
The cavalrymen were evidently preparing for departure; but 
they had hardly gone when another troop took possession of 
the premises. We concluded from the conversations overheard 
that it was a troop of Hussars. Toward evening a large crowd 
of people seemed to gather below, and we distinguished among 
them also women's voices. Then the trumpeters began to play 
waltzes and the merry company to dance. This was by no 
means disagreeable to us, for we expected that after such a 
frolic, which could scarcely pass off without some drink, 
our Hussars would sleep all the better. But before nine o'clock 
the crowd dispersed, and all would have been quiet had not 
one of the Hussars held back on the spot a Rastatt maiden. 
The couple stood or sat immediately under our hiding place, and 
we could understand every word they exchanged. The conver- 
sation was of a very sentimental character. He assured her 
that she was charming; that she had inflamed his heart when 
she first looked at him, and that he loved her tenderly. She an- 
swered he should not trouble her with his bad jests. But he 
may have observed that she really did not want to be left un- 
troubled, and so he continued to vary the theme in all sorts 
of bold and flowery figures of speech. At last she seemed to 
be really inclined to believe all he told her. We should cer- 
tainly have laughed had we dared. But when this otherwise 
interesting conversation would not come to an end, I began 
to be a little anxious lest it last until midnight, and so this 
Hussar love might interfere seriously with our plans. I felt, 

[ 230] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
therefore, very much relieved when finally, after ten o'clock, 
the wooing vows died away in the distance. 

Now we counted the minutes as the decisive moment ap- 
proached. When it struck eleven Neustadter slipped out of 
the opening in the plank wall, stepped upon the pile of wood, 
and jumped lightly to the ground. I followed him. My legs 
had become very stiff in consequence of my lying for days and 
nights immovable on my back, and as I put my foot upon the 
wood several sticks fell down with a great noise. A moment 
later I heard not far away the tread of a patrol. I only had time 
to whisper back to my faithful Adam that he should remain 
until the patrol should have passed, and then follow me. I 
succeeded in reaching the little house before the patrol turned 
the corner of the lane. Neustadter was already there, and 
Adam came a few minutes later. 

' The patrol passed quietly by," said he, " and they snored 
so loud in the shed that any other noise would hardly have been 
heard." 

The wife of our friend in the little house had prepared a 
precious repast of beef broth, with rice, for us. After this and a 
dish of boiled meat and roast potatoes had refreshed our 
strength, we set out through the garden for the sewer. The 
moon was shining brightly, and we kept cautiously in the shad- 
ows of the hedges. But when we arrived at the ditch close by the 
mouth of the sewer a new fright awaited us. A sentinel was 
pacing to and fro just beyond the sewer, hardly thirty feet 
away from it. We halted and stooped under the hedge. There 
was but one thing to do. As the man turned his back upon us 
and walked to the other side, one of us was to slip cautiously 
into the sewer. The two others had to do the same. In a few 
minutes we were reassembled in the darkness of our refuge. We 
crawled ahead and found our old bench again, where we rested 

[231] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
a while. Then pursuing our way we found the railing in its 
old place, dipped under it, and soon perceived a gleam of light 
through a mass of dark leaves, which suggested that the open- 
ing was immediately before us. We stood still once more to 
make our pistols ready for action. Whether after having been 
so wet, they would have gone off is very questionable. After all 
we had suffered, we were now determined to do our utmost. 
But the field was clear, the chain of guards had disappeared. 
The cornfield lay immediately before us. A low whistle on our 
part was promptly answered, and our man joined us a moment 
later. 

He reported that the road was free. We marched vigor- 
ously on and in less than an hour we reached the village of 
Steinmauern. Our friend conducted us to the bank of the 
Rhine and showed us a boat in which a man lay fast asleep. 
He was quickly roused, and our friend announced to him that 
we were the men he was to take across the Rhine. " That will 
cost five florins," growled the boatman, who, upon my question 
as to what countryman he was, told me he came from Coblenz. 
I gave him the reward asked for, and offered also some more 
money to our kind friend. ; You have given me already 
enough," he said; " what you still have you will be very much 
in need of. My name is Augustin Loeffler. Perhaps we may 
meet again in this world. God protect you." 

Then we shook hands most cordially and parted. We 
fugitives stepped into the boat, and our friend wandered back 
to Rastatt. Many years later, when I was Secretary of the 
Interior in the government of the United States, I received 
one day a letter from Augustin Loeffler. It was dated at a 
little place in Canada. He wrote me that he had left Germany 
a short time after the revolutionary period, and was doing very 
well in his new home. He had read in the newspapers that I 

[232] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
was one of the three young men who in that July night, 1849, 
had been conducted by him from Rastatt to the Rhine. In 
answer I expressed my joy at the receipt of his letter, and 
requested him to write again, but I have heard nothing from 
him since. 

In an unexpectedly short time the boatman put us 
ashore in a dense growth of willows. It was between two and 
three o'clock in the morning, and as the surroundings seemed 
to be rather uninviting, we resolved to sit down upon old 
stumps of trees and there to await the light of day. At daybreak 
we arose to look for the nearest Alsatian village ; but soon we 
discovered that we were on an island. A little house which 
stood in the middle of the island seemed to be the abode of a 
frontier guard of the grand duchy of Baden. So it looked as if 
we were still in the enemy's country, and as if the boatman from 
Coblenz had deceived us. The shutters and the doors of the little 
house were closed. We listened, but heard no sounds inside. A 
rapid run over the island convinced us that, excepting us three, 
there was no human being on it. We went to the water's edge 
opposite Alsatia, and in the rising sunlight saw on the other side 
two men whom we soon recognized to be French customs 
officers. We called out to them across the water that we were 
fugitives and desired to be taken over. One of the men came 
over to us in a little skiff and took us across to Alsatian soil. We 
gave up our arms to him and assured him and his comrade, amid 
great laughter, that we had brought with us from Rastatt 
nothing else subject to tariff duty. When I felt myself now 
really in freedom and security, my first impulse was, after a 
silence of four days, to shout as loudly as I could. My com- 
panions had the same feeling, and so we burst forth to our 
hearts' content, watched with great astonishment by the 
French officers, who may have taken us for madmen. We had 

[233] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
landed near a little village called Miinchhausen. The officers 
told us that in the town of Selz, near by, there were many Ger- 
man fugitives, and to Selz therefore we went. On the way we 
gazed at one another in the clear sunlight, and discovered that 
we looked like savages. For days and nights we had waded or 
squatted in wet clothes in water, mud and dust. Our hair was 
matted and our faces were streaked with dirt. A near rivulet 
furnished us the indescribable luxury of a washing, and thus 
retsored to human shape, we soon reached the inn at Selz. 

The refugees there from Baden, none of whom had been 
in Rastatt, welcomed us heartily, and asked us at once for the 
story of our adventures. But our first wish was for a hot bath, 
a breakfast, and a bed. All this we obtained. I slept twenty- 
four hours with slight interruptions. Then I acquainted the 
company of refugees in the inn with the circumstances of our 
escape from Rastatt. From them I learned also for the first 
time that Kinkel had been captured by the Prussians in a fight 
near the fortress, before the beginning of the siege. When we 
left the Palatinate and he could no longer make himself useful 
in the offices of the provisional government, he had joined a 
battalion of volunteers and shouldered his musket as a private 
soldier. Thus he would share the lot of the revolutionary army. 
In the fight on the line of the Murg River he was wounded in 
the head and fell into the hands of the attacking Prussians. 
He was then incarcerated in one of the casemates at Rastatt, 
together with the captured garrison, in order to have him tried 
by court-martial, which would, no doubt, order him to be 
shot. This news threw a black veil over my joy at my own 
recovered freedom. 

On the day after our arrival in Selz a police officer ap- 
peared at the inn, by the authority of the mayor, to learn our 
names, and also whether we expected to remain, or, if not, 

[ 234 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CAUL SCHURZ 
where we intended to go. "We want to go to Strasburg," I 
answered haphazard. The mayor gave us thereupon a sort of 
passport, with the instruction that we should report ourselves at 
once in Strasburg to the prefect. The depressing serious- 
ness came over me that I was now really a homeless man, a 
fugitive, and under police surveillance. After having written 
to my parents and describe d to them my escape, we started for 
Strasburg without further delay. The real goal, however, of 
my journey was Switzerland, where, as I learned, Anneke 
and many others of my friends might be found. 

If I had remained only a few days longer in Selz I should 
have seen my father in the same inn in which I had slept my 
first night in freedom. The mischance happened in this wise: 
The letter I had written to my parents on the day of the surren- 
der at Rastatt, in the expectation that I would be taken prisoner 
together with the rest of the garrison, struck them like a clap 
of thunder, and at once my father set out to look for his son. 
Arrived in Rastatt, he reported himself at the office of the Prus- 
sian commander, to learn something about my fate. The com- 
mander received him kindly, but on inquiry could not give him 
any further information than that my name was not on the list 
of the captives. This surprised my father very much, and he 
requested permission to visit the casemates in which the pris- 
oners were kept. This permission he received, and an officer 
accompanied him on this anxious search. From casemate to 
casemate they went three days long, and of one man after 
another they inquired about me, but all in vain. Many of those 
they saw knew me, but nobody knew what had become of me) 
Nobody had seen me on the occasion of the surrender. My 
father found Kinkel among the crowd. " What," Kinkel cried, 
" is Carl here, too? Alas, I believed him to be secure in 

Switzerland! " 

[ '235 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
In speechless grief the two men pressed each other's 
hand. 

When my father had thus many days looked for me in 
vain, a ray of hope dawned upon him that after all I might 
have escaped. From citizens in Rastatt he learned that there 
were several refugees from Baden on the other side of the 
Rhine in Selz. Possibly one of these might be able to give him 
tidings about me. A few hours later my father appeared at 
the inn in Selz, and there he inscribed his name. Then he 
learned the whole story of my flight, and how only a few days 
before I had been in Selz and was now gone to Strasburg, 
with the intention of traveling further, nobody knew where, 
probably to Switzerland. My father burst into tears of joy, and 
exclaimed again and again, "That boy! That boy! Now I 
must quickly go home to tell his mother." As he could hardly 
hope still to find me in Strasburg, and expected to hear from 
me before long, he returned without delay to Bonn. One 
of the refugees from Baden, who had seen my father in the inn 
at Selz, and who had given him the happy news about me, told 
me all this a month later in Switzerland, and he could hardly 
master his emotion when he described to me my father's joy. 



[236] 



CHAPTER VIII 

FROM Selz to Strasburg we wandered on foot. It was a beau- 
tiful Sunday afternoon. For a time we could see from our 
road the steeples of Rastatt. This distant view of the prison 
from which he had escaped would have been more joyful had 
it not reminded us of the unfortunate friends who in this dun- 
geon awaited a sad fate. As we were still wearing uniforms, 
having no other clothes, we were easily recognized as fugitive 
revolutionary soldiers, and not seldom the village folk stopped 
us and wished to know how we had escaped. Then we were 
invited to rest, and were entertained with wine, refreshments 
and merry conversation until late in the evening, when we 
reached Strasburg. There we stopped at the hotel, the " Reb- 
stockl," the host of which was well known for his warm German 
sympathies. He gave us a hearty welcome and took especial 
care of us after he had heard our story. The next day we were 
obliged to report ourselves to the prefect. This officer informed 
us that the French government had resolved to send the Ger- 
man refugees into the interior; we could therefore stay neither 
in Strasburg nor in any other place near the frontier. Neither 
could he give us passports to Switzerland. But as it was our 
special desire to go to Switzerland, we resolved to continue our 
journey secretly without the assent of the authorities. 
^A Meantime the news had come that those of the pri- 
vate soldiers of Baden and the volunteers of the Palatinate, 
who had done nothing but simply serve in the revolu- 
tionary army, were to be sent home without punishment. 
Only the officers and other noted transgressors were held 

[237] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
back. Nothing therefore stood in the way of Adam's re- 
turn home, and I urged him to avail himself of this oppor- 
tunity. Adam once more gave expression of his warm attach- 
ment to me, of the sincerity of which I certainly had no reason 
to doubt. But he recognized that my advice was good, and 
resolved without delay to return to his family in the Palatinate. 
I divided the money I had with him, and thus we parted with 
the sincerest emotion and with the promise occasionally to write 
to one another. Only when Adam was gone it occurred to me 
that I had never known his family name, so that my efforts 
to find him out remained unsuccessful. I could not write 
to him; and thus it happened, that, as he did not write to 
me, I have never heard from him again since that day of 
parting. 

After having spent some hours in visiting the Strasburg 
Cathedral, Neustadter and I prepared for departure. We pur- 
chased alpaca dusters to conceal our military uniforms, and 
then took a railway train for Basel, which, however, we left at 
a way-station shortly before reaching the Swiss frontier. It 
was near evening. We went into a village near by and found a 
little tavern, through the open door of which we saw a woman 
busy at the cooking stove. We entered and asked for some- 
thing to eat. In her Alsatian idiom, hard for us to understand, 
she promised us some ham and eggs. While she was preparing 
our meal a man entered, whom we took to be her husband and 
the landlord of the inn. As his face inspired confidence, I 
thought it best to acquaint him frankly with our situation, as 
well as with our wish to cross the frontier into Switzerland 
without meeting any official person who might demand a pass- 
port. Our host seemed to be highly interested, and showed a 
surprising familiarity with the bypaths and trails used by the 
smuggling fraternity on the Swiss frontier. We suspected 

[238] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
directly that he was of that fraternity himself. After dark 
he accompanied us part of the way, and then instructed us 
how we could avoid contact with all the customs officers 
and reach the Swiss village of Schonebiihl, where we would 
find, at a certain minutely described spot, a barn which would 
probably be open, and where we would have a good night's rest 
on the stored hay. We followed the advice, and about midnight 
we reached the barn and stretched ourselves out to sleep. 

Soon after sunrise we were on our feet again and inquired 
of some peasants, who seemed to be going to their work, the 
road to Bern — for I had heard in Strasburg that Anneke and 
the other friends whom I wished to join were in that city. 1 The 
road led us first through fertile valleys. The fields teemed with 
men and women busy gathering their crops. I remember well 
the emotion experienced on that march. It was a joyful picture 
I beheld, but again and again the thought arose in me, " How 
much happier those toilers are than I! When they have done 
their hard work they return to their homes. They have a home, 
and I have none." I could not get rid of those somber reflec- 
tions until we reached the Munsterthal, that magnificent cleft 
in the Jura Mountains. After a short rest I could not restrain 
the desire to take a look directly at the high Alps. So we 
climbed up the Monto, which rises to an elevation of about 
4000 feet, and there we beheld for the first time in the distance 
the marvelous sublimity of the snowy mountain heads. It was 
a strange, invigorating and inspiring sight. 

In a deep valley, on the other side of the Monto, we 
stopped at a wayside tavern, in which we found an intelli- 
gent-looking man, and a boy, who were refreshing themselves 
with wine and bread and cheese. The man, when we asked for 
the road and the distances from place to place, informed us 
kindly that he lived at Bern, and was just enjoying a little 

[239] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
excursion with his son. Pushing our inquiries further, we 
learned that he knew several of the German refugees, among 
others my friends, and that these had indeed spent some time 
in Bern, but about a week ago had left that city to go to Dor- 
nachbruck, near Basel, where he was sure I could now find 
them. This was disagreeable news to me. In order to join 
them I had to retrace my steps the way we had come. I re- 
solved at once to do so. But Neustadter, who did not know my 
friends, and who hoped to find some occupation in Bern, pre- 
ferred to continue his journey in that direction. Thus we 
\ parted in the little tavern, and did not meet again until eight- 
een years later, in St. Louis, on the Mississippi River, where 
he occupied a modest but respected position, and where we 
then pleasantly rehearsed the common adventures of our youth- 
ful days. 

My arrival at Dornachbruck brought me a new disap- 
pointment. In the village inn I learned that Anneke and 
others of my friends had indeed been there a few days before, 
but after a short stop had left for Zurich. I would gladly have 
traveled after them at once had I been sure that those whom 
I sought had not left Zurich again. My purse, too, was nearly 
empty, and, moreover, I felt physically very much exhausted. 
So I concluded it would be best, for the time being, to remain in 
Dornachbruck. I took a room in the inn, wrote home for some 
money and the clothes I had left behind, and went to bed. The 
great excitements and fatigues of the past days began to tell 
on me. I was thoroughly tired out, and felt myself lonely and 
forsaken. Sleep refreshed me but little. In very low spirits I 
wandered about in the village and surrounding country, and 
spent many an hour in the crumbling tower of a castle r,uin, 
lying in the grass or sitting on moss-covered masonry. My 
melancholy grew deeper and darker. The future lay like a 

[240] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
black cloud before me. I imagined myself at last seriously ill, 
and then spent the larger part of the day lying on my bed in a 
drowsy condition. It may have been on my tenth day in Dor- 
nachbruck when, one morning, I heard a remarkably loud 
voice downstairs calling my name. " That must be old Strodt- 
mann," I exclaimed, and jumped from my bed. Indeed it Mas 
he, my Schleswig-Holstein friend. He had come from Bonn, 
to bring me a letter from my parents and dozens of them 
from my university friends. Also a purse bursting with 
gold, and whatever else I stood in need of. My escape from 
Rastatt had created in Bonn a most joyful sensation, which 
in the letters brought by Strodtmann found lively expression, 
and of which Strodtmann could not tell me enough. My 
melancholy was gone at once. Suddenly I felt perfectly well, 
and after having celebrated our reunion with the best dinner 
that the inn in Dornachbruck could furnish, we resolved to 
set out on the next day for Zurich, where Strodtmann prom- 
ised to remain with me for a while. 

Thus we marched forth, student-fashion, frequently stop- 
ping by the way, and then resuming our journey with con- 
stantly increasing gayety. On the River Aar, in view of the 
ruins of Hapsburg, not far from the spot where centuries ago 
the Emperor Albrecht had been killed by his nephew, Johann . 
von Schwaben, we lay down in the grass, lost ourselves in his- 
toric contemplations and poetic outbursts, and fell asleep. It 
was evening when a Swiss policeman woke us. We found good 
quarters in an inn near by, and the next day secured seats 
on top of the mail coach for Zurich. When we arrived at 
Zurich, whom should I see? There, at the halting-place of 
the mail, stood my friends: Anneke, Techow, Schimmel- 
pfennig and Beust, the very friends that I had been pur- 
suing on my journey hither and thither — there they stood, 

[241 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
just as if they had expected me. Their surprise was no less 
than mine. When I jumped down among them, as if I had 
dropped from the clouds, they hardly trusted their eyes. They 
had heard nothing of my escape from Rastatt. Neither had 
they found my name in the newspapers that gave an account 
of the revolutionary officers imprisoned in the casemates. No- 
body had been able to tell them about me. Thus they had come to 
believe that I had been lost, perhaps in one of the last engage- 
ments, perhaps in an attempt to pass the Prussian lines. As 
they now saw me before them, alive and well, there was no end 
to their exclamations of astonishment. 

Before evening I was lodged in the house of a baker's 
widow, in the Dorf Enge, a suburb of Zurich. Strodtmann 
found quarters in a neighboring inn. My other friends lived 
near by in the house of the schoolmaster. All this was very 
convenient and comfortable, although extremely simple. 
While Strodtmann was with me my thoughts moved in the 
atmosphere of the old conditions and surroundings, and my 
sojourn in Zurich appeared almost like part of a student's 
jaunt. But ten days later my dear good friend returned 
to Bonn, and what now began for me was the life of a 
refugee in its true reality. I had not become quite conscious of 
it all when the illness, which had threatened in Dornachbruck 
and had then been interrupted by the happy meeting with 
Strodtmann, developed into a violent fever, which kept me 
in bed two weeks. The village physician, as well as the 
baker's widow and her daughter, took care of me, and after a 
time I fully recovered. But when I rose from my bed I found 
myself in a strange world. It came over me that I had abso- 
lutely nothing to do. My first impulse was to look for a regular 
occupation. But soon I convinced myself that a young man 
like myself, who might have given lessons in Latin, Greek or 

[242 J 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
music, had little to hope for in a population which, although it 
had hospitably received a great mass of fugitives, did, after all, 
not like them much. The other refugees were in the same con- 
dition, but many of them looked down upon such endeavors 
with a certain contempt, so long, at least, as their pecuniary 
resources were not exhausted. They firmly believed that a new 
upheaval would occur in the old Fatherland before long. No- 
body cultivates the art of deceiving himself with the windiest 
illusions more cleverly, more systematically and more untiringly 
than the political refugee. We succeeded easily in finding in 
newspapers some news that clearly indicated to us the inevita- 
ble and fast-approaching outbreak of a new revolution. We 
were certain that we would soon return triumphantly to Ger- 
many, there to be the heroes of the day, the true champions of 
a victorious cause. Why should we therefore trouble ourselves 
with cares for the future ? It appeared to us much more impor- 
tant and appropriate to discuss and determine the part each 
should play in the coming action. With the profoundest 
seriousness we debated the question who should be a mem- 
ber of the provisional government, or minister, or military 
leader. 

We gravely sat in judgment over each other's char- 
acter, capabilities, and especially fidelity to revolutionary 
principles, and but few forgot in this respect the positions 
to which they believed themselves entitled. In short, we 
disposed of the glorious future as if we had actually held the 
power over it in our own hands. Such delusions were well 
apt to develop among us a light-hearted and idle tavern 
existence, to which many of our companions gave themselves 
without restraint. I heard some of my refugee friends say, 
with a sort of lofty condescension, that the Fatherland looked 
to us as its great helpers and leaders ; that we had to devote our 

[243] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
lives solely to this exalted duty, and that therefore we should 
not fritter away our time and our strength in commonplace 
philistine occupations. 

I must admit that in a simple-hearted, naive way I shared 
this illusion — I was still only twenty years old — as to the immi- 
nence of a new revolutionary uprising. But the tavern had no 
charm for me whatever, and soon the life of a refugee began 
to yawn at me like a horrible void. A restless craving for sys- 
tematic mental activity seized upon me. First I thought of the 
tasks which, as a young man, I would have to perform in the 
anticipated new struggles in Germany. With my nearest 
friends, who had all been officers in the Prussian army, and 
were excellent teachers, I reviewed and studied the military 
operations in Baden on a map specially drawn by us for that 
purpose. Then followed a series of military studies, of tactics 
and strategy, for which my friends furnished me the necessary 
material and instruction, and which I carried on with great 
zeal. Who could have thought that the knowledge thus gath- 
ered would be of use to me on a field of operations far away 
from Germany, and that one of my teachers, Schimmelpfen- 
nig, would then be a brigadier in my command ! 

This work, however, did not altogether satisfy me. My 
old love for historical studies was as strong as ever, and as I 
succeeded in gaining access to a good library, in which I found 
the works of the historian Ranke and many other books of 
value, I was soon again profoundly immersed in the history of 
the Reformation. 

When winter came my lodgings in the house of the 
of the good baker's widow became uncomfortable on account 
of the cold. Then I took, with a companion in the Palatinate 
revolution, an old Prussian head forester by the name of Em- 
mermann, two cosy rooms in the house of a merchant on the 

[244] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ t 

Schanzengraben. My chum had the typical face of an old 
forester, weather-beaten, illumined by keen eyes, furrowed with 
a network of deep wrinkles, and ornamented with a gigantic 
gray mustache. He was an old bachelor, an amiable, benevo- 
lent soul, and we lived together in cheerful peace and friend- 
ship. He told me often that his forest-house had been situated 
in the neighborhood of a place called Tronegg, which had 
been in the immemorial past the seat of the gloomy hero of the 
Nibelungen Lied, Hagen von Tronje. 

Thus I lived in agreeable domestic conditions and contin- 
ued diligently my military and historical studies. Although I 
avoided the tavern as much as possible, I did not keep entirely 
aloof from intercourse with a larger circle of refugees. We 
had a political club that met once a week, and in the transactions 
of which I took an interested part. This club was in corre- 
spondence with democratic friends in the Fatherland, informed 
itself about the state of the public mind and about everything 
that could be considered symptomatic of the coming new revolu- 
tion, and endeavored to put in its own work here and there- 
an activity of which I learned only some time later how utterly 
illusory it was. From time to time it occurred to me that the 
revolution might delay its coming much longer than we be- 
lieved, and I began to make plans for my own future. There 
was a rumor that the federal government of Switzerland 
intended to found a great university at Zurich. I thought if the 
new German revolution kept us waiting all too long, I might 
establish myself at the university as a " Privat-Docent ' of 
history, and then win for myself by-and-by a regular professor- 
ship. For the time being I gladly accepted the proposition of 
my friend, Dr. Hermann Becker, dubbed the " red Becker ' 
at the university, to write articles for the newspaper edited by 
him in Cologne, the remuneration for which was sufficient to 

[245] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
keep me above water until something better could be found. 
Thus I believed to perceive some bright spots in the fogs of the 

future. 

^My most remarkable acquaintance of those days was Rich- 
ard Wagner, who, in consequence of his participation in the 
revolutionary uprising in Dresden, had been obliged to leave 
Germany, and now lived as one of the refugees in Zurich. He 
had then already written some of his most important creations, 
but his greatness was appreciated only by a very small circle of 
friends. Among the refugees at Zurich he was by no means 
popular. He passed for an extremely arrogant, domineering 
character, with whom nobody could long associate, and who 
treated his wife, the first one — a stately, good-natured, but 
mentally not highly gifted woman — very neglectfully. If any- 
one among us had then prophesied his magnificent career he 
would have found little credence. As an insignificant and 
reticent young man, of course, I did not come close to him. 
Although I met him and spoke with him occasionally, he prob- 
ably never noticed me sufficiently to remember me. 

In the course of time I should probably have suc- 
ceeded in obtaining some position as teacher, if not at the 
university, at least at some other minor institution, had not 
my life of quiet study had been interrupted by an event that 
was destined to turn it into very different channels. The un- 
happy lot of my friend, Professor Kinkel, was constantly in 
my mind, all the more as it had taken an unexpected and 
particularly shocking turn. After having been wounded in 
the head and taken prisoner by the Prussians, Kinkel was 
carried first to Karlsruhe, and then after the surrender of 
Rastatt, to that fortress, where he was to be tried by a court- 
martial. On the 4th of August Kinkel appeared before that 
tribunal, which was composed of Prussian officers. Sentences 

[ 9A6 ] 





..,.;■-■" ..' 




GOTTFRIED KIXKEL IN CHAINS 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHUR2 
of death were at that time the order of the day. And there is 
no donht that, at army headquarters as well as at the seat of the 
Prussian government, Kinkel's condemnation to death was 
desired and expected. But Kinkel conducted his defense him- 
self, and even the warriors composing the court-martial, men 
educated in the strictest allegiance to royal absolutism, could 
not resist the charm of his wonderful eloquence. Instead of 
condemning him to death, they sentenced him to confinement 
for life in a fortress. 

To Kinkel's friends, to the admirers of the poet, I may 
say, to a large majority of the German people, this sentence ap- 
peared cruel enough. But the Prussian government at once 
manifested its dissatisfaction with it, for the reason that it was 
too mild. A rumor arose that the verdict would be set aside 
on account of some neglected formalities, and that Kinkel was 
to be put before a new court-martial. For weeks the poor pris- 
oner, with alternate hope and fear, looked forward to the con- 
firmation or rejection of the sentence, until at last, on the 30th 
of September, the following public announcement appeared : 

"Warning. The late professor and member of a free corps, 
Johann Gottfried Kinkel of Bonn, having fought among the insurgents 
in Baden with arms in his hands against Prussian troops, has been 
sentenced by the court-martial instituted at Rastatt to lose the Prussian 
cockade and instead of the penalty of death only to confinement for life 
in a fortress. For examination of the legality of this sentence, it was 
submitted by me to the royal auditor-general, and by him to his Majesty, 
the king, for rejection on account of illegality. His majesty has gra- 
ciously deigned to affirm the sentence, with the qualification that Kinkel 
shall undergo imprisonment in a civil penitentiary. According to this 
most high order, I affirm the verdict of the court-martial, to the effect 
that Kinkel is to be punished on account of treason with the loss of the 
Prussian cockade and with imprisonment for life, and that in execution 

[247] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
of this sentence he shall be taken to a house of penal servitude; all of 
which is herewith brought to public knowledge. 
"Headquarters, Freiburg, 30 September, 1849- 

" The Commanding General von Hirschfeld." 

This monstrous proceeding called forth, even from many 
of those who did not share Kinkel's political opinions and who 
disapproved of his acts, expressions of the profoundest indig- 
nation. The sentence pronounced by a regular court-martial 
was called illegal simply because it was not a sentence of death. 
It was called an " act of grace," that the king, nominally ac- 
cepting that so-called illegal sentence of the court-martial, 
changed the confinement in a fortress into imprisonment 
in a penitentiary. What was confinement in a fortress? It 
was imprisonment in a fortified place under military sur- 
veillance, which permitted the prisoner to retain all the signs 
of his civil identity, his name, his clothes, his character 
as a man, and had treatment on the part of his guards not 
unworthy of that character — a kind of imprisonment in which 
he could continue his accustomed mental occupations — im- 
prisonment, to be sure, but not disgrace, not degradation 
to the level of the common felon. And what was confine- 
ment in a house of penal servitude? Imprisonment in an 
institution intended for the ordinary criminal, where the 
prisoner was on the same level with the thief, the forger, the 
highwayman; where his head was shorn, his ordinary dress ex- 
changed for the striped jacket, where he lost his name and 
received in its stead a number, where, in case of a breach of 
disciplinary rules, he was punished with flogging, where he had 
to abandon his whole mental life to do menial labor of the lowest 
kind. And this was called an act of grace! It was not to miti- 
gate a sentence of death, because there was no such sentence, 

[248] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
but to change the sentence of confinement in a fortress, such 
as I have described, into something infinitely more cruel, some- 
thing loaded with debasement and infamy — a sentence of 
penal servitude — and this to Kinkel, the art-historian, who had 
opened the realms of the beautiful to so many a youthful mind ; 
the poet, who had cheered and lifted up so many a German 
heart; the genial, refined, amiable, warm-hearted gentleman, 
whom only enthusiasm for liberty and fatherland had made 
to do what they called his crime ! Even if he had, according to 
the law, deserved punishment after fighting in a lost cause, 
the sound sense and the human sympathy of many of his oppo- 
nents revolted at the brutal arbitrariness which overriding the 
obvious sense of a court-martial verdict, would not only punish, 
but degrade him and bury him amid the dregs of the human 
kind. Even death, which would have left to him his dignity as 
a man, would have seemed less inhuman than such an ' act 
of grace." 

Kinkel was first taken to the prison at Bruchsal in Baden, 
and soon afterwards to the penitentiary at Naugard in Pome- 
rania. It was evidently intended to remove him as far as possi- 
ble from the Rhineland, where sympathy for him was warmest. 
With shorn head, clothed in a gray prison jacket, he spent his 
days in spinning wool. On Sundays he had to sweep his cell. 
He was denied, so far as possible, all mental activity. His diet 
was that of the criminal in the penitentiary. From the day of 
his arrival in Naugard, October 8, 1849, until April, 1850, 
he received altogether only one pound of meat. But he moved 
the heart of the director of the penitentiary, and his treatment 
assumed gradually a more considerate character, a few small 
favors being granted to him. He was permitted more frequent 
correspondence with his wife, his letters being opened and read, 
however, by the officers; and he was relieved of the task of 

[2491 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
cleaning his cell. A little gift of sweetmeats, which his family 
sent at Christmas-time, was delivered to him. But he was 
still obliged to spin wool; and when our good Strodtmann, at 
that time a student in Bonn, appealed to the popular heart in 
Kinkel's behalf, in a poem called the " Spinning Song," the 
young poet was promptly dismissed from the university. 

In the meantime the preparations for the trial of those 
who had taken part in the attack upon the Siegburg armory in 
May, 1849, went on in Cologne, and early in the year 1850 there 
was a rumor that the government intended to transport Kin- 
kel from Naugard to Cologne in the spring, for the purpose 
of having him also tried for that revolutionary attack. 

In February, 1850, I received a letter from Kinkel's 
wife. In burning colors she described to me the terrible situa- 
tion of her husband and the distress of the family. But this 
high-spirited and energetic woman did not speak to me in the 
tone of that impotent despair which pusillanimously submits to 
an overpowering fate. The thought that it must be possible to 
find ways and means for the liberation of her husband gave her 
no rest day and night. For months she had been corresponding 
with friends in whose character she had confidence and whose 
energy she hoped to excite. Some of them had discussed with 
her plans for the rescue of her husband, and others had put 
sums of money at her disposal. But, so she wrote, nobody 
had shown himself ready to undertake the dangerous enter- 
prise himself. What was needed, she said, was a friend who had 
sufficient tenacity of purpose, and who would devote his whole 
strength to the work until it should have succeeded. She herself 
would make the attempt did she not fear that her appearance 
in the vicinity of her husband's prison would at once excite 
suspicion and stimulate the watchfulness of his keepers. But 
it was necessary to act promptly, before the gnawing tortures 

[ 250] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
of prison life should have completely destroyed Kinkel's men- 
tal and bodily strength. Then she informed me that Kinkel, 
according to rumor, would be taken to Cologne for trial on 
account of the Siegburg affair, and that there might then pos- 
sibly be a favorable opportunity for his deliverance. She asked 
now for my advice, as she confided in my friendship as well 
as in my knowledge of the situation. 

The night after the arrival of this letter I slept but little. 
Between the lines I could read the question whether I would 
not be the one to undertake the venture. It was this ques- 
tion that kept me awake. The spectacle of Kinkel in his prison 
jacket at the spinning-wheel was constantly before my eyes, 
and I could hardly endure the sight. I loved Kinkel dearly. I 
believed also that with his great gifts, his enthusiasm and his 
rare eloquence, he might still do great service to the cause of 
the German people. The desire to restore him if I could to 
Germany and to his family became irresistible. I resolved that 
night to try and make the attempt. 

The next morning I began to consider the matter in de- 
tail. I remember that morning very clearly. Two doubts 
troubled me much. The one was whether I would be capa- 
ble of carrying so difficult an undertaking to a happy end. I 
said to myself that Frau Kinkel, who after all had most to win 
and most to lose, seemed to believe me capable, and that it was 
not becoming in me to put my ability in doubt in the face of 
her confidence. But would those whose cooperation in so dan- 
gerous a risk was necessary give their confidence to so young 
a man as I was? I might perhaps gain it by a bold attitude. 
I cheered myself with the thought that as a young, insignifi- 
cant and little known person I might better succeed in remain- 
ing unnoticed than would an older and more widely known 
man, and that therefore I might trust myself with less dan- 

[251] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
ger in the jaws of the lion. Finally, would older, more expe- 
rienced, and more careful men be willing to do and dare all 
that might be required for the purpose of the task? Perhaps 
not. In short, this was, all things considered, a piece of work 
for a young man, and my youth appeared to me at last rather 
in the light of an advantage than of a hindrance. 

My second doubt touched my parents. Could I with 
regard to them take the responsibility, after having just es- 
caped from a terrible catastrophe, to put my life and free- 
dom again in such jeopardy? Would they approve? One 
thing was clear: I must not in this case ask my parents for 
their permission, for I would then have to correspond with 
them about my project, and such a correspondence, subject 
to all possible chances of detection, might thwart the whole 
plan. No; in order to succeed, the undertaking must remain 
a profound secret, of which only those engaged in it were to 
have knowledge, and even then, if possible, only in part. To 
my family I could not confide it, for a conversation among 
them, accidentally overheard by others, might betray it. There- 
fore the question as to the approval of my parents I must 
answer myself, and I answered it quickly. They were among 
Kinkel's warmest admirers and devoted to him in loyal friend- 
ship. They were also good patriots. My mother, I thought, 
who the year before had given my sword to me with her own 
hands, would say: " Go and save our friend." And thus all 
my doubts were overcome. 

On the same day I wrote to Frau Kinkel that in my opin- 
ion she would probably only aggravate the lot of her husband 
if she permitted an attempt to liberate him in Cologne on the 
occasion of the Seigburg trial, because then the authorities 
would doubtless take the most comprehensive precautions. She 
should hold her pecuniary means together without thinking of 

[252] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
anything to be undertaken soon, and wait patiently and 
silently until she heard again from her friend. My letter was 
so worded that she could understand it, while it would not be- 
tray my intentions if it fell into wrong hands. As she also 
was familiar with my handwriting, I signed with a different 
name and directed the address to a third person whom she had 
mentioned to me. I conceived at once the plan to get secretly 
to Bonn for the purpose of talking over with her further steps, 
instead of risking such communications to paper. 

Without delay I began my preparations. I wrote to my 
cousin, Heribert Jiissen, in Lind, near Cologne, whose outward 
appearance corresponded in all essential points with mine, 
asking him to procure from the police a traveling passport 
in his name and to send it to me. A few days afterwards the 
passport was in my hands, and now I could like an ordinary 
unsuspected mortal travel without difficulty wherever I was 
not personally known. Then I gave the officers of our club 
to understand that I was ready as an emissary to visit various 
2)laces in Germany for the purpose of organizing branch clubs 
and to put them into communication with our committee in 
Switzerland. This offer was received with great favor, and I 
obtained, together with minute instructions, a long list of per- 
sons in Germany who could be depended upon. Of course of 
my real plans I did not give the slightest intimation. All was 
ready for my departure, and as I went on a secret expedition 
as an emissary, my friends found it quite natural that about 
the middle of March I should suddenly and entirely unnoticed 
disappear from Zurich. 



[ -53 ] 



CHAPTER IX 

Ox my errand I had to pass through the grand duchy of 
Baden, and saw from the window of my railroad carriage the 
castle tower of Rastatt, on which I had spent so many an hour. 
My first stopping place was Frankfurt-on-the-Main, where 
I was to find several persons who had been designated to me 
by the directors of my club at Zurich as worthy of confidence. 
From them I obtained various information about the condition 
of things in the western and middle part of Germany, and 
reported back what I learned to my friends in Switzerland. 
In general I faithfully carried out the instructions which I 
had received from them, and succeeded in keeping up the im- 
pression with regard to the object of my journey so com- 
pletely that not one of my Zurich friends suspected me in the 
least of ulterior designs. Next I visited a number of cities, 
Wiesbaden, Kreuznach, Birkenfeld, Trier, where I found 
friends of our cause and established new communications. 
There were still among them people who hoped to bring on 
new revolutionary upheavals by means of secret conspira- 
cies. This is one of the usual afterthroes of miscarried revo- 
lutionary movements. I traveled down the Moselle to Coblenz, 
where I passed a quiet day, intending to take the night mail 
coach to Bonn. In this I succeeded without trouble. As I 
approached my home, however, the journey became more pre- 
carious. At about two o'clock in the morning I arrived in 
Godesberg, where I decided to leave the coach. The remainder 
of the way to Bonn I did on foot. The house of my parents 
was outside of the city on the Coblenzer Strasse, and I reached 

[254] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
it by three o'clock in the morning. By a fortunate accident I 
still possessed the latchkey which I had used as a student, and 
it opened the back door. In this way I got into the house and 
soon stood in the bedroom of my parents. Both were sleeping 
profoundly. After having sat for a while quietly on a chair 
until the light of dawn crept in through the windows I woke 
them up. Their surprise was indescribable. For some moments 
they could not persuade themselves that I was really there. 
Then their astonishment passed into the liveliest joy. My 
mother thought that I looked indeed a little fatigued, but 
otherwise very well. At once she would see to the breakfast. 
After I had given them the most necessary explanations about 
my sudden appearance, my father, who was beyond measure 
proud of me, wanted to know whom I desired to see in the 
course of the day. I had hard work to convince him that above 
all things my presence must be kept absolutely secret, and 
that therefore I did not wish to come into contact with any- 
body except the most trustworthy intimates. 

Very fortunately it so happened that Frau Johanna Kin- 
kel visited my parents that same morning, and I had opportu- 
nity for a confidential talk with her. I told her that I was 
ready to devote myself to the liberation of her husband if she 
would put the enterprise entirely into my hands, speak to 
nobody about it, and not ask me for more information than 
I might voluntarily give her. With touching enthusiasm she 
thanked me for my friendship and promised everything. After 
having agreed upon what was at the time to be done or to be 
left undone, I gave her a receipt for a magic ink which I had 
obtained in Zurich. With that ink our correspondence was 
to be carried on. It was simply a chemical solution, which, when 
used as ink, made no mark on the paper. A letter containing 
indifferent subject-matter was to be written over this in or- 

[255] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
dinary ink ; the person receiving the letter then was to cover 
the paper, by means of a brush or sponge, with another chem- 
ical solution, which made what had been written in ordinary 
ink disappear. Thereupon the paper was to be warmed near 
a stove or a lamp to make the communication written with the 
magic ink become legible. Kinkel's eldest son, Gottfried, at 
that time a little boy, told me later that he had often looked 
on while his mother washed sheets of paper and then dried 
them near the stove. 

When I had seen Frau Kinkel my most important busi- 
ness in Bonn was finished and I could give myself for some 
days, or so long as I could hope to remain undiscovered, to 
the joy of living once more with my family. With some of 
my oldest student friends I came together in the rooms of one 
of them, and there I met also a young student of medicine, 
Abraham Jacobi. Jacobi was a zealous democrat who after- 
wards won in America a great name for himself as a physician 
and scientist — so great, indeed, that many years later, when 
he had become one of the most prominent physicians of 
America, this revolutionary exile was distinguished by the 
university of Berlin with a call to a professorship. His invalu- 
able friendship I have enjoyed down to this moment, and hope 
to enjoy it to the last. 

In the darkness of night I went out to take my accus- 
tomed walks once more; and on one of those nightly expedi- 
tions I could not refrain from passing Betty's window in 
order, perhaps, to catch a gleam of light which might issue 
through the shutters ; but all was dark. The next morning, how- 
ever, I received more than an accidental gleam of light. One 
of my best friends, who also knew Betty, came to the house 
of my parents bringing a bouquet of flowers. " This bouquet," 
he said to me, " is sent to you by a girl whom I could safely 

[256] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
tell that you are here." I blushed over and over in accepting 
the flowers and expressed my thanks. I put no further ques- 
tions, for I did not doubt who the girl must be. 

Before many days the number of my friends who had 
been informed of my presence was so large, and the danger 
that I might be betrayed by some accidental conversation be- 
tween them became so great, that I thought it necessary to 
disappear. In response to my request my cousin, Heribert 
Jiissen, whose passport and name I bore, came to Bonn with 
his vehicle to take me during the night to Cologne. The part- 
ing from my parents and sisters was very sad, but after all 
they let me go in a comparatively cheerful state of mind. I 
left with them the same impression I had left with my friends 
in Switzerland — that I was exclusively engaged in business 
entrusted to me in Zurich. But we often talked about Kin- 
kel's dreadful lot, and my parents repeatedly and emphatically 
expressed the hope that someone might be found to make an 
attempt to rescue him. Although they probably did not have 
me in mind when saying this, still it was sufficient to convince 
me that they would approve of my being that one. When I 
left Bonn nobody knew of my purpose except Frau Kinkel. 

In Cologne I found quarters in the upper story of a 
restaurant which was kept by a zealous democrat. My friend 
the " Red Becker," the democratic editor, was there my spe- 
cial protector and confidant. I had made his acquaintance at 
the university. He was indeed at that time no longer a student. 
His examinations he had passed long before, but he was fond 
of visiting his Burschenschaft, the Allemania, in the old way; 
and nobody possessed a merrier humor and a more inex- 
haustible sitting power at the convivial meetings than he.^ 
Everybody knew and loved him. His nickname, the ' Red 
Becker," he owed to a peculiarity of appearance. He had thin 

[257] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
gold-red hair and a thin gold-red beard; he also suffered from 
a chronic inflammation of his eyelids so that his eyes seemed 
to have been framed in red. Not only his amiable disposition 
and his bubbling wit, but also his keen, critical mind and his 
comprehensive knowledge made him a most agreeable and 
much-desired companion. Nobody would have anticipated at 
that time that this jolly comrade who found so much enjoy- 
ment in continuing his university life beyond the ordinary 
measure of years, and who had already, in a high degree, ac- 
quired the oddities of an incorrigible student loiterer, would 
later distinguish himself as a most excellent public administra- 
tor, as a popular burgomaster of Cologne, and as a member of 
the Prussian House of Lords. 

We had become close friends in consequence of our com- 
mon political sympathies. He was not only at that time the 
editor of a democratic paper, but also the leader of the demo- 
cratic club in Cologne, and I could safely count upon it that 
if anybody cherished a purpose to liberate Kinkel during the 
impending trial for the Siegburg affair, he would certainly 
know it all. Becker told me with the utmost frankness what 
had been planned and that all the world talked about " some- 
thing that must be done." It became clear to me at once that 
if all the world talked about it, an attempt could not possibly 
succeed, and I was rejoiced to hear Becker himself share this 
conviction. Thus I was satisfied that nothing would be done in 
Cologne that might be apt to render later attempts more diffi- 
cult of success. 

The secret of my presence in Cologne was communicated 
to my nearest friends and to many others with such unconcern 
that I thought it was time to leave. Therefore I took a night 
train by way of Brussels to Paris. My intentions with regard 
to Kinkel I had confided to nobody in Cologne. Becker knew 

[258] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
no more than that I had gone to Paris for the purpose of 
putting myself into communication with the German refugees 
living there, to write some letters about the situation of things 
in the French capital for his newspaper, and that I perhaps 
would spend some time in historical studies. In fact, all I had 
in view was to sit still in a secure place until the trial of the 
Siegburg affair, with all its excitements, was over, and Kinkel 
had been transported back to Naugard or to some other peni- 
tentiary, so that I might find him fixed at a certain place, and 
there begin my venturesome work. 

Some impressions I received on the day of my arrival 
in Paris will always remain indelible in my mind. I was 
well versed in the recent history of France with its world-mov- 
ing revolutionary events. Since the days of March, 1848, I 
had studied them with especial interest, hoping thus to learn 
more clearly to judge what was passing in my own surround- 
ings, and now I had arrived at the theater of these great revo- 
lutionary actions in which the elementary forces of society in 
wild explosions had demolished the old and opened the way to 
the new order of things. From the railway station I went 
to the nearest little hotel, and soon, map in hand, I set out to 
explore the city. Eagerly I read the names of the streets on 
the corners. Here they were, then, those battlefields of the 
new era, which my excited imagination peopled at once with 
historic figures — here the Square of the Bastile, where the 
people won their first victory — there the Temple, where the 
royal family had been imprisoned; there the Faubourg Saint- 
Antoine, which on the days of great decision had sent the 
masses of the Blousemen upon the barricades into the bloody 
conflict; there the Carre Saint-Martin, where the first barri- 
cades of the February rising had been raised; there the Hotel 
de Ville, where the commune had sat and where Robespierre 

[259] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
with a bloody head had lain upon the table; there the Palais 
Royal where Camille Desmoulins, standing upon a chair, had 
fulminated his fiery speech and stuck a green leaf as a cockade 
on his hat; there the Place de la Concorde, where on the 
10th of August the royal power of Louis XVI. fell into the 
dust. 

Thus I wandered about for several hours as if entranced, 
when at a shop window I heard two men speaking German 
together. This woke me out of my reverie, and it occurred to 
me that it was time to look up the German refugees whose 
addresses I possessed. I therefore accosted the German-speak- 
ing men and asked them where I could find a certain street. 
I received a polite response and found myself soon in the room 
of a friend whose acquaintance I had made in the Palatinate 
— the Saxon refugee Zychlinski. He procured for me a fur- 
nished room in the neighborhood of the Church Saint-Eus- 
tache and instructed me quickly in the art of living in Paris 
on little money. 

My sojourn in the French capital lasted about four weeks. 
My first care was to practice myself in the language of the 
country. I had appreciated already in Brussels that the in- 
struction in French which I had received at the gymnasium 
hardly enabled me to order a breakfast. Now I began at once 
with a pocket dictionary in hand to read newspapers, including 
the advertisements, and then to avail myself of every opportu- 
nity to put the words and phrases I had thus learned to use 
in conversation with the concierge of my house or the waiter at 
the restaurant or with anybody who would listen to me. After 
a few days I found that I could get along measurably well 
as to the everyday requirements of life. I did not make any 
important acquaintances in Paris at that time. Indeed I saw 
the leading men of the legislative bodies, but only from the 

[ 260 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
distance of the gallery. Fellow-refugees brought me into con- 
tact with some Frenchmen who belonged to the extreme revo- 
lutionary class. From them I heard little more than the 
ordinary tirades against Louis Napoleon, who at that time was 
still president of the republic, but who gave significant indi- 
cations of ulterior ambitions. In the circles in which I moved 
it was regarded as certain that this " Napoleonic business ' 
could not possibly last long and that the new revolution doing 
away with the president would inevitably spread over the larger 
part of Europe. Although I took all possible pains to form 
a sober and impartial judgment of the condition of things in 
France, reading attentively to this end the journals of all 
parties, my conclusions did not escape from the influence of 
my wishes and illusions. If I should now in the light of his- 
torical events see again the letters which then I wrote in good 
faith as correspondent of Becker's newspaper, the reading 
would not be welcome. The errors of judgment which I then 
committed and which in less than two years I learned correctly 
to estimate, have been to me a lasting and salutary lesson. A 
large part of my time I spent in studying the treasures of 
art collected in Paris, which opened to me a world of charming 
vistas. 

I remember an occurrence which, although unimportant 
in itself, has frequently in later times risen up in my mind and 
set me to thinking. I was in the habit of meeting Zychlinski 
and some other Germans in a certain Quartier Latin cafe. 
One evening I failed to find my friend there. This was espe- 
cially disagreeable to me, for I had wished to ask Zychlinski 
to lend me some money. A remittance due me from Becker 
had not come, and all the change in my pocket consisted of a 
few sous, which were sufficient only for a cup of coffee and the 
tip to the waiter. I sat down and ordered my cup as usual, 

[261 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
with the confident expectation that either one or the other of 
my friends would soon appear. I drank my coffee as slowly as 
possible, but when I had emptied the cup not one of my ex- 
pected friends was there. I put the remainder of my sugar 
n » into a glass of water, and prepared my ' eau-sucre " in the 
manner of the thrifty guests of the French cafes. I read one 
journal after another, sipping my sugar-water with painful 
slowness, but nobody came. I may have sat there more than 
two hours and it began to be very late. The " dame du comp- 
toir," to whom payment was made, yawned, and even Monsieur 
Louis, the attendant of the billiard table, who for more than 
an hour had been unoccupied, became sleepy. I still see the 
amiable Monsieur Louis before me, from time to time rolling 
the ivory balls on the billiard table with his finger from one 
spot to another and then looking at me. I felt as if both had 
become annoyed at the long time that I devoted to my cup 
of coffee. So I resolved to pay with my last sous and to go 
home. But when I got up from my chair an accident hap- 
pened. By an awkward movement I pushed the coffee cup 
off the little table upon the marble floor, and it broke into many 
pieces. I thought that as a matter of course I must pay for the 
broken cup. I had money enough for the coffee, but not for the 
broken cup. The dame du comptoir exchanged glances with 
Monsieur Louis. Those glances darted into the depth of my 
guilty conscience. What should I do? At this moment several 
new guests came in, French students, of whom two or three 
began to joke with the dame du comptoir. Could I now step 
into this group and in my clumsy French make to the Dame 
du Comptoir a confession of my embarrassment? Would I 
not expose myself to the laughter of the whole company? In 
the excitement of the moment I recklessly resolved to order 
another cup of coffee, taking a last chance of my friends still 

[262] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
turning up. I waited long, but not in vain. Zychlinski really 
came. The terrible burden fell from my soul. I had to restrain 
myself not to cry out for delight. I told him my story, and 
we laughed heartily about it, but with all this I did not feel 
at ease. Zychlinski lent me the needed money, but when I got 
up to leave and asked the dame du comptoir how much I 
owed for the broken cup, she replied with a gracious con- 
descending smile that in this cafe no payment was ever ac- 
cepted for accidentally broken crockery. My anguish had 
therefore been altogether superfluous. When I returned to 
my quarters I found a letter from Becker containing the de- 
layed check. 

This little adventure has in later life frequently come to 
my mind again. As a result of my ruminations I give to those 
who read this story the serious advice not to follow my ex- 
ample under similar circumstances and never to add to one 
obligation an unnecessary new one, trusting to a happy chance 
for payment. It was a cause of that false pride which has led 
so many men, originally honest, down the inclined plane of ~ 
mischief. Many a man has gone to destruction for not having 
the moral courage to face embarrassing situations or on occa- 
sion frankly to confess: "I have not money enough to do 
that which others do." 

While I was in Paris the trial of the participants in the 
Siegburg affair took place in Cologne. At an early hour on 
the 10th day of April, Kinkel left the penitentiary at Naugard 
accompanied by three police officers and arrived in Cologne 
on the 13th. On the journey, which was made in great secrecy, 
he was permitted to wear an ordinary overcoat and a little 
black hat, but as soon as he arrived in the penitentiary in 
Cologne he had to don the penitentiary garb again. A few 
days later Frau Kinkel was permitted to see her husband in 

[263] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
the prison, but only in the presence of the turnkeys. She took 
with her her six-year-old Gottfried, who did not recognize his 
father with his closely clipped hair, his drawn features, and 
his convict dress, until he heard his voice. 

The public trial before a jury of burghers opened on the 
29th of April. Ten persons were accused " of an attempt 
to upset the present constitution of the kingdom, to excite 
the citizens or inhabitants of the state to sedition, to arm them- 
selves against the royal authority, and to bring about a civil 
war by arming the citizens or inhabitants of the state against 
one another, or by inciting them so to arm themselves." Of 
y?the defendants, four were present, six having fled the kingdom, 
of whom I was one. 

The population of Cologne was in feverish excitement. 
The court house was surrounded by an immense multitude 
eager to see Kinkel and to manifest their sympathy for him, 
the captive defender of liberty, the poet condemned to the peni- 
tentiary. The authorities had taken the most extensive meas- 
ures to prevent any possibility of his being liberated. The car- 
riage in which Kinkel rode from the prison to the court house 
was surrounded by a strong force of cavalry with drawn sa- 
bers. The streets he passed through, as well as all the ap- 
proaches to the court house, were bristling with bayonets. On 
the court house square stood two cannon with an ammuni- 
tion wagon, and the artillerymen ready for action. When Kin- 
kel appeared he was, in spite of all this, received by the as- 
sembled multitude with thundering cheers. He had again been 
put into ordinary citizen's dress. On the way he appeared 
stolid and impassive. The aspect and the acclaim of the people 
revived him. Boldly and proudly he lifted up his closely 
clipped head as he strode from the carriage between lines of 
soldiers into the hall of justice. There his wife had, early in 

[264] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
the morning, secured a place which she continued to occupy 
every day throughout the trial. The public prosecutor moved 
in Kinkel's case the penalty of death. The testimony of the 
various witnesses brought out the facts of the case as they were 
generally known ; the public prosecutor, as well as the attorneys 
of the defendants, pleaded their causes with coolness and skill. 
My friend and fellow-student, Ludwig Meyer, made a manly 
speech in his own defense, and at last, on the 2d of May, Kin- 
kel himself asked to be heard. 

The assembled audience, aye, the whole nation, were in 
a state of anxious expectancy. People asked one another: 
"What will he say? Will he humiliate himself, and bow his 
head like a penitent sinner? Will he present the picture of a 
broken and thenceforth harmless man in order to purchase 
grace? Or will he defy those in power by maintaining all his 
former professions, by standing by what he has said and done, 
and thereby forfeit the last claim to a mitigation of his awful 
lot? " The grievously suffering man would probably have been 
forgiven by pubi? opinion had he by a yielding attitude sought 
an alleviation of IJs misery. 

Kinkel's speech m ms own defense was a full answer to 
all these questions, in the ik^l* degree imposing, aid touching 
at the same time. He began with a concise description vf the 
public situation in Germany after the revolution in MMi, 
1848. " The people," he said, " had then won their sovereignty. 
This sovereignty of the people had been embodied in the con- 
stituent assemblies elected by universal suffrage— in the Prus- 
sian assembly in Berlin, as well as in the national parliament 
in Frankfurt. It had so been understood by all the world. The 
national parliament had proceeded with signal moderation; it 
had created a magna charta of popular rights in a constitu- 
tion for the empire, and it had elected as the head of the em- 

[265] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
pire and the protector of that magna charta the king of Prus- 
sia, the same king who on the 18th of March had put himself 
at the head of the movement for German unity and freedom. 
The realization of this idea had been the great hope of the na- 
tion. But the king of Prussia had refused to complete the 
work of national unity by declining the imperial crown. He 
had dissolved the Prussian constituent assembly, which had 
urged him to accept the charge, and thereby annihilated the 
possibility of an agreement with the people, and with it also 
all hope of the accomplishment of social reforms. Then noth- 
ing had remained but an appeal to arms. He too, the accused, 
had taken up his musket, and he declared now in the presence 
of his judges his belief that he had done right. He stood to-day 
by the acts he had committed in the preceding May. What 
he had done, he had done as a patriot and a man of honor." 
He went still farther in his avowal. He called himself a so- 
cialist — although in the now-accepted party sense Kinkel had 
really never been that. He had never been an adherent of any 
of those systems which contemplate a compile subversion ol* 
the traditional institutions of society. Wher; he CSL \[ e( [ himself 
a socialist he meant only that, as he said, " n j s heart was always 
with the pop,- and oppress^ ^ .% people, and not with the 
rich aw powerful of this world." He expressed, therefore, 
onl- 'those sympathies which had taken possession of so many 
xiearts, and in order to designate them he chose the name of 
socialist because it was nearest at hand. " And because I am 
a socialist," Kinkel continued, " therefore I am a democrat, for 
I believe that only the people themselves can feel their own 
deep wounds and cleanse and heal them. But because I am a 
democrat, because I consider the democratic state as the only 
and certain possibility to banish misery from the world, there- 
fore I also believe that when a people have once won demo- 

[266] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
cratic institutions they have not only the right, but also the 
duty to defend those institutions to the last with all means 
within their reach, even with musket and pointed steel. In this 
sense I profess to accept the principle of revolution for which 
my own blood has flowed, and even to-day, wholly in the power 
of my adversaries, I confess with the pale lips of the prisoner 
that this principle is mine. And therefore I also believe that 
together with the friends at my side I was right when I took 
up & the battle and offered to my principles the highest sacri- 
fice. A high aim was before our eyes. Had we conquered we 
would have saved to our people peace within itself; the unity 
of the Fatherland, this fundamental idea of the German revo- 
lution, and with it the key to all future developments of pros- 
perity and greatness. Gentlemen, we have not conquered. The 
people have not carried this struggle through, but have aban- 
doned us, us who advanced in the lead. The consequences fall 

upon our heads." 

Now he declared how in this struggle he had not hesitated 
to associate himself with persons without education and even 
of doubtful repute. " For," he said, " no great idea had ever 
been disgraced because the populace and the publicans accepted 
it." Then he explained how the penal provisions of the Code 
Napoleon, which was still the law in the Rhineland, could not 
be applied to the public conditions of 1848; that this code 
had been designed for an absolute military monarchy; that 
after the revolution the Germans were entitled to arm them- 
selves as a people with free choice of their leaders— and this 
for the purpose of enabling the people to protect their rights 
against encroachments. " We are told that we attempted to 
subvert the existing constitution of the kingdom. What con- 
stitution is meant? The new Prussian? Who ever thought of 
that? Or the Frankfurt national constitution? To protect this 

[267] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
we took up arms. Upon your conscience, gentlemen, are we 
the men that made attempts upon that constitution? But we 
are charged to have incited civil war. Who dares to assert 
this? Who will deny that in the face of the uprising of the whole 
people in arms, a grand solemn uprising, the crown would have 
been urged upon the path of progress, without civil war? 
Yes, if all were true that is asserted in the indictment, if we 
had really conspired to oppose force to force, if we had armed 
ourselves to storm an armory, if we had put arms into the 
hands of citizens for such an enterprise, even then, yes, even 
then, we would, after a defeat, be only unfortunates, but not 
punishable culprits. We would have done it, not to destroy a 
constitution, but to support one that was attacked; we would 
have done it not to incite civil war, but to prevent civil war, 
that horrible civil war, which drove the Landwehr of Iserlohn 
into the deadly fire of the German riflemen on the tower of 
Durlach, that condemned, in consequence, Dortu to be shot 
and Corvin to penal labor. What has become of the Father- 
land now that we have not conquered? That you know. But 
if we had conquered in this struggle, before God, gentlemen, 
instead of the guillotine with which the prosecuting attorney 
threatens us, according to the law of the French tyrant, we 
would receive from you to-day the civic crown." This part 
of his speech was heard by all those assembled in the hall with 
astonishment and by many with admiration. The presiding 
officer found it difficult to suppress the storm of applause 
which at times would break out, but everybody felt that this 
accused man who faced so boldly and proudly those in power, 
even if he escaped a new sentence, had now forfeited all hope 
for a mitigation of the punishment already imposed upon him. 
But what now followed overwhelmed the audience to an un- 
expected degree. In a few sentences Kinkel pointed out the 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
contradictions and weak points in the testimony of the wit- 
nesses, and then he continued: 

" The only thing that remains is that I have incited citi- 
zens to take up arms. I will tell you how this incitement came 
about. I am glad to tell you, because in my action there is only 
one thing that might appear ambiguous, and that is, that I 
endeavored rather to dissuade others from the enterprise 
which I myself undertook. With perfect clearness that 10th 
of May still stands before my mind, for that day on which I, a 
happy man, took leave of all the happiness of my life, has 
etched itself into my soul with burning needles of pain. The 
strain and stress of that time tore piece after piece from my 
heart; but at five o'clock in the afternoon I had not yet formed 
a final resolution. I went to the university. I delivered my 
lecture with quiet composure. It was my last. At six o'clock 
arrived the tidings from Elberfeld and Dusseldorf. They 
struck hot fire into my breast. I felt that the hour had come 
for me when honor commanded to act. From the meeting of 
citizens I went to my dwelling to say farewell. I took leave 
of the peace of my house ; of the office which for twelve years 
had made me happy, and which I believe I had faithfully admin- 
istered; leave of my wife, for whose possession I had already 
once risked my life; leave of my sleeping children, who did not 
dream that in this hour they lost their father. But when I 
crossed my threshold and stepped into the darkening street, then 
I said to myself, ' You have taken this resolution prepared for 
whatever may follow; for you know what the consequences 
may be. You will always have the consolation of the ideas and 
convictions you cherish. You have no right to persuade an- 
other husband, another father, to the same terrible decision.' 
In this state of mind I mounted the platform of the citizens' 
meeting; and I warned every one of my hearers whose heart 

[269] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
was not firm like mine — and out of this speech the public prose- 
cutor makes an incitement to revolt! Do not think, gentle- 
men, that I wish to appeal to your emotions and to awaken 
your pity. Yes, I know it, and the ' acts of grace ' of the 
year 1849 have taught me that your verdict of guilty means 
a sentence of death; but in spite of this, I do not want your 
compassion; not for my fellow-defendants, for to them you 
owe not pity, but satisfaction for the long and undeserved 
imprisonment; not for me, for however inestimable your sym- 
pathy as citizens and men may be to me, your compassion for 
me would have no value. The sufferings I have to bear are 
so terrible that your verdict can have no added terrors for 
me. Beyond the measure of the punishment at first imposed 
upon me, the authorities have increased mine by the horrible 
solitude of the isolated cell, the desolate stillness, in which no 
trumpet call of the struggling outside world will penetrate, 
and no loving look of faithful friends. They have condemned 
a German poet and teacher who in more than one breast has 
lighted the flame of knowledge and beauty, they have con- 
demned a heart full of sympathy slowly to die in soulless 
mechanical labor, in denial of all mental atmosphere. The 
murderer, the lowest, most hideous criminal, is permitted as 
soon as the word of grace and pardon has descended upon him 
to breathe the air of his Rhenish home, to drink the water 
of his beloved river. The fourteen days I have been here have 
taught me how much consolation there is in the air and light 
of the homeland. But I am kept in the far-away gloomy 
north, and not even behind the iron bars of my prison I am 
allowed to see the tears of my wife, to look into the bright eyes 
of my children. I do not ask for your commiseration, for how- 
ever bloody this law may be you cannot make my lot more ter- 
rible than it is. The man whom the public prosecutor has in- 

[270] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
sinuatingly dared to accuse of cowardice has in this last year 
looked death in its various forms into the eyes so often, so 
nearly, so calmly, that even the prospect of the guillotine can 
no longer shake him. I do not want your compassion, but I 
insist upon my right. My right I put upon your consciences, 
and because I know that you citizens, jurymen, will not deny 
this right to your Rhenish compatriot. Therefore I expect 
with quiet confidence from your lips the verdict of not guilty. 
I have spoken; now it is for you to judge! " 

The impression produced by these words has been de- 
scribed to me by eyewitnesses. At first the audience listened in 
breathless silence, but before long the judges upon the bench, 
the jurors, the densely crowded citizens in the hall, the prose- 
cuting attorney who had conducted the case, the police officers 
who watched the accused, the soldiers whose bayonets gleamed 
about the door, burst out in sobs and tears. It took several 
minutes after Kinkel concluded his speech before the presid- 
ing judge found his voice again. At last the case was given to 
the jury. The jury instantly returned a verdict of ' Not 
guilty." Then a thundering cheer broke forth in the hall, which 
was taken up by the multitude outside and resounded in the 
streets far into the city. Frau Kinkel pressed through the 
crowd to her husband. A police officer ordered his subordinates 
who surrounded Kinkel to hold her back, but Kinkel, rising 
to his full height, cried out with a commanding voice, " Come, 
Johanna! Give your husband a kiss. Nobody shall forbid 
you." As if yielding to a higher pow r er the police officers 
stepped back and made way for the wife, who threw herself 
into her husband's arms. 

The other defendants were now free to go home; only 
Kinkel, still under the former sentence imposed upon him 
by the court-martial in Baden, was again quickly sur- 

[271 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
rounded by his guards, taken to the carriage amid the resound- 
ing acclamations of the people and the rolling of the drums 
of the soldiers, and carried back to the jail. 

As was to be expected, the authorities had taken every 
possible measure to prevent an attempt to liberate Kinkel in 
Cologne. The government had meanwhile also resolved not 
to take him back to the penitentiary at Naugard, but to im- 
prison him in Spandau, probably because in Naugard warm 
sympathies with the sufferer had manifested themselves. 
To mislead Kinkel's friends and to avoid all difficulties on 
the way, he was not, as generally expected by the public, trans- 
ported by rail, but in a coach, accompanied by two police 
officers. The departure took place on the day after the trial in 
all secrecy, but just these arrangements had made possible 
an attempt at escape which Kinkel undertook of his own mo- 
tion and without help from the outside, and which he narrated 
to me later as follows: 

One evening the police officers stopped the coach at a way- 
side tavern of a Westphalian village where they intended to 
take supper. Kinkel was placed in a room in the upper story, 
where one officer remained with him, while the other went down 
to make some arrangements. Kinkel noticed that the door of 
the room was left ajar and that the key was in the lock outside. 
The idea to take advantage of this circumstance occurred to 
him instantly. Standing near the window he directed the at- 
tention of the police officer who guarded him, sitting near the 
door, to a noise outside on the street. As soon as the police 
officer stepped to the window, Kinkel sprang with a rapid 
jump through the door and turned the key in the lock outside. 
Then he ran as fast as he could down the stairs through the 
back door into the yard, into the kitchen garden, and in the 
direction that was open to him, into the fields. Soon the fugi- 

[272] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
tive heard voices behind him and turning saw lights in the 
distance moving to and fro. He ran with furious speed, 
spurred on by the pursuit, which was evidently at his heels. 
Suddenly he struck his forehead against a hard object and 
fell down stunned. 

The pursuers also had their difficulties. The police officer 
who had been in the room with Kinkel jumped for the door, 
and finding it locked, he hurried back to the window, which in 
the excitement of the moment he did not succeed in opening 
quickly. He smashed it with his fist and shouted into the street 
that the " rogue " had escaped. The whole house was promptly 
alarmed; the police officers told the servants that the fugitive 
was one of the most dangerous criminals of the Rhineland, and 
offered a reward of at least a hundred thalers for his capture. 
Of course, the village folk believed all they were told. The 
postilion who had driven the coach, not suspecting that his 
passenger was Kinkel, showed himself especially active. At 
once lanterns were brought to look for the tracks of the fugi- 
tive. The postilion soon discovered them, but Kinkel had 
gained considerable headway by these delays, and only his 
running against a pile of wood, a projecting log of which 
struck his forehead, had neutralized this advantage. In less 
than a quarter of an hour he was in his benumbed condition 
discovered by the postilion, who really believed that he had be- 
fore him an escaped highwayman, and soon the police officers, 
hurrying on, again laid their hands upon him. These now re- 
doubled their watchfulness until finally the door of the peni- 
tentiary of Spandau closed upon the unfortunate man. 

When the excitement caused by the trial in Cologne had 
subsided, and Kinkel, sitting quietly in the Spandau peniten- 
tiary, had temporarily ceased to occupy public attention in an 
extraordinary degree, I left Paris for Germany. I had in the 

[273] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
meantime received new instructions from the Zurich commit- 
tee which I faithfully carried out. To this end I visited sev- 
eral places in the Rhineland and in Westphalia, and even 
attended a meeting of democratic leaders which took place in 
July in Braunschweig, where I hoped to establish useful con- 
nections. There I made the acquaintance of the Mecklenburg 
deputy, Moritz Wiggers, with whom soon I was to have very 
interesting transactions. 

At the beginning of August I returned to Cologne, where 
I had another meeting with Frau Kinkel. She reported that 
the sum collected for the liberation of her husband had grown 
considerably, and I was rejoiced to hear that it was sufficient 
to justify the beginning of active work. We agreed that the 
money should be sent to a confidential person in Berlin from 
whom I might receive it according to my requirements. Frau 
Kinkel also told me that she had found a method to convey 
to Kinkel information in a manner not likely to excite sus- 
picion, if anything were undertaken in his behalf. She had 
written to him about her musical studies and put into her let- 
ters long explanations about the word ' fuge." Kinkel had 
made her understand by words which were unintelligible to 
the officers who reviewed his letters, that he appreciated the 
significance of the word " fuge," Latin, ' fuga," English, 
" flight," and that he was anxious to correspond more with 
her upon that subject. Frau Kinkel promised me to be very 
circumspect with her letters and not to cause him any unneces- 
sary excitement, also not to become impatient herself if she 
should hear from me but seldom. So we parted and I started 
for the field of my operations. 

At the railroad station I found my friend Jacobi, who 
was on his way to Schleswig-Holstein, to offer his services 
as a physician to our struggling brethren. A part of the way 

[274] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
we could journey together. This was an agreeable surprise, 
but a much less agreeable surprise was it when in the coupe 
in which we took seats we found ourselves directly opposite to 
Professor Lassen of the University of Bonn, who knew me. 
We were greatly startled. Professor Lassen looked at me with 
evident astonishment, but as Jacobi and I began to chat and 
laugh as other young men would have done with apparent un- 
concern, the good orientalist probably thought that he was 
mistaken and that I could not possibly be the malefactor whom 
I resembled in appearance. On the 11th of August I arrived 
at Berlin. My passport, bearing the name of my cousin, Heri- 
bert Jiissen, and fitting me admirably in the personal descrip- 
tion, was in excellent order, as the passports of political of- 
fenders venturing upon dangerous ground usually are, and 
thus I had no difficulty in entering Berlin, the gates and rail- 
road stations of which were supposed to be closely watched by 
an omniscient police bent upon arresting or turning away all 
suspicious characters. Without delay I looked up some student 
friends who had been with me members of the Burschen- 
schaft Franconia at the university of Bonn, and they gave 
me a hearty welcome, although they were not a little astonished 
to see me suddenly turn up in Berlin. They were discreet 
enough not to ask me for what purpose I had come, and thus 
made it easy for me to keep my own secret. Two of them, who 
occupied a small apartment on the Markgrafen Strasse, in- 
vited me to share their quarters ; and as I went out and in with 
my friends the police officers on that beat no doubt regarded 
me as one of the university students, a good many of whom 
lived in that neighborhood. 

It was at that period customary in Berlin, and perhaps it 
is now, that the tenants of apartment houses were not furnished 
with latchkeys for the street doors, but that such keys were 

[275] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
entrusted to the night-watchman patrolling the street, and that 
a tenant wishing to enter his house during the night had to 
apply to the watchman to open the door for him. Having been 
seen by our watchman once or twice coming home with my 
friends, I was regarded by him as legitimately belonging to 
the regular inhabitants of the street ; and as it happened several 
times that, returning late in the night alone from my expe- 
ditions to Spandau, where I was preparing for the deliv- 
erance of a man sentenced to imprisonment for life, I called 
upon this same police officer to open for me — for me, who was 
then virtually an outlaw — the door of my abode, which he 
always did without the slightest suspicion. This afforded me 
and my friends much amusement, and, indeed, considering the 
great reputation of the Berlin police for efficiency, the situation 
was comical enough. It is, therefore, not surprising that I be- 
came a little reckless and did not resist the temptation to see the 
famous French actress, Rachel, who at that period, with a com- 
pany of her own, was presenting the principal part of her rep- 
ertoire to the Berlin public. 

Rachel had then reached the zenith of her fame. Her his- 
tory was again and again rehearsed in the newspapers: how 
that child of poor Alsatian Jews, born in 1820 in a small inn 
of the canton of Aargau in Switzerland, had accompanied her 
parents on their peddling tours through France; how she had 
earned pennies by singing with one of her sisters in the streets 
of Paris ; how her voice attracted attention ; how she was taken 
into the Conservatoire; how she soon turned from singing to 
elocution and acting, and how her phenomenal genius, suddenly 
blazing forth, at once placed her far ahead of the most re- 
nowned of living histrionic artists. We revolutionary youths 
remembered with especial interest, the tales that had come from 
Paris after those February days of 1848, when King Louis 

[ 276 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
Philippe was driven away and the republic proclaimed, describ- 
ing Rachel as she recited the " Marseillaise " on the stage, half 
singing, half declaiming, and throwing her hearers into parox- 
ysms of patriotic frenzy. 

Some of my student friends having witnessed Rachel's 
first performance in Berlin, gave me extravagantly enthusias- 
tic reports. My desire to see her became very great. Indeed, 
the attempt would not be without risk. In thus venturing into 
a public place I might fall into the hands of the police and go 
from there straightway to prison. But my friends told me that 
the government detectives would hardly look for state crim- 
inals in a theater, and that I would be safe enough in the large 
crowd of Rachel enthusiasts. I could put myself into some 
dark corner of the parterre without danger of meeting a detec- 
tive for one night at least. Finally, with the light-heartedness 
of youth, I resolved to take the risk. 

So I saw Rachel." It was one of the most overpowering 
impressions of my life. The play was Racine's " Phedre." I 
had read most of the tragedies of Corneille, Racine and Vol- 
taire, and was well enough acquainted with them to follow the 
dialogue. But I had never liked them much. The stilted arti- 
ficiality of the diction in the tedious monotony of the rhymed 
Alexandrine verse had repelled me, and I had always won- 
dered how such plays could be made interesting on the stage. 
That I was to learn. When Rachel stepped upon the scene, not 
with the customary stage stride, but with a dignity and majes- 
tic grace all her own, there was first a spell of intense astonish- 
ment and then a burst of applause. She stood still for a 
moment, in the folds of her classic robe like an antique statue 
fresh from the hand of Phidias. The mere sight sent a thrill 
through the audience: her face a long oval, her forehead, shad- 
owed by black wavy hair, not remarkably high, but broad and 

[277] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
strong; under her dark arched eyebrows a pair of wondrous 
eyes that glowed and blazed in their deep sockets like two 
black suns; a finely chiseled nose with open, quivering nos- 
trils; above an energetic chin a mouth severe in its lines, with 
slightly lowered corners, such as we may imagine the mouth 
of the tragic Muse. Her stature, sometimes seeming tall, 
sometimes little, very slender, but the attitude betraying elas- 
tic strength ; a hand with fine tapering fingers of rare beauty ; 
the whole apparition exciting in the beholder a sensation of 
astonishment and intense expectancy. 

The applause ceasing, she began to speak. In deep tones 
the first sentences came forth, in tones so deep that they 
sounded as if rising from the innermost cavities of the chest, 
aye, from the very bowels of the earth. Was that the voice of 
a woman? Of this you felt certain — such a voice you had never 
heard, never a tone so hollow and yet so full and resonant, so 
phantomlike and yet so real. But this first surprise soon 
yielded to new and greater wonders. As her speech went on 
that voice, at first so deep and cavernous, began, in the chang- 
ing play of feelings or passions, to rise and roll and bound 
and fly up and down the scale for an octave or two without 
the slightest effort or artificiality, like the notes of a musical 
instrument of apparently unlimited compass and endless va- 
riety of tone color. Where was now the stiffness of the Alex- 
andrine verse? Where the tedious monotony of the forced 
rhymes? That marvelous voice and the effects it created on 
the listener can hardly be described without a seemingly ex- 
travagant resort to metaphor. 

Now her speech would flow on with the placid purl of a 
pebbly meadow brook. Then it poured forth with the dashing 
vivacity of a mountain stream rushing and tumbling from rock 
to rock. But her passion aroused, how that voice heaved and 

[278] 




RACHEL 

From the Painting by Edouard Dubufe 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
surged like the swelling tide of the sea with the rising tempest 
behind it, and how then the thunderstorm burst, booming and 
pealing, and crashing, as when the lightning strikes close, mak- 
ing you start with terror! All the elementary forces of nature 
and all the feelings and agitations of the human soul seemed to 
have found their most powerful and thrilling language in the 
intonations of that voice and to subjugate the hearer with super- 
lative energy. It uttered an accent of tender emotion, and 
instantly the tears shot into your eyes; a playful or cajolling 
turn of expression came, and a happy smile lightened every face 
in the audience. Its notes of grief or despair would make every 
heart sink and tremble with agony. And when one of those ter- 
rific explosions of wrath and fury broke forth you instinctively 
clutched the nearest object to save yourself from being swept 
away by the hurricane. The marvelous modulations of that 
voice alone sufficed to carry the soul of the listener through all 
the sensations of joy, sadness, pain, love, hatred, despair, jeal- 
ousy, contempt, wrath, and rage, even if he did not understand 
the language, or if he had closed his eyes so as not to observe 
anything of the happenings on the stage. 

But who can describe the witcheries of her gestures and 
the changeful play of her eyes and features? They in their 
turn seemed to make the spoken word almost superfluous. 
There was, of course, nothing of that aimless swinging of 
arms and sawing of the air and the other perfunctory doings 
of which Hamlet speaks. Rachel's action was sparing and sim- 
ple. When that beautiful hand with its slender, almost trans- 
lucent, fingers, moved, it spoke a language every utterance of 
which was a revelation to the beholder. When those hands 
spread out with open palms and remained for a moment in 
explanatory attitude— an attitude than which the richest fancy 
of the artist could not have imagined anything more beauti- 

[279] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
fully expressive — they made everything intelligible and clear; 
at once you understood it all and were in accord with her. 
When those hands stretched themselves out to the friend or 
the lover, accompanied by one of those smiles which were rare 
in Rachel's acting, but which, whenever they appeared, would 
irradiate all surroundings like friendly sunbeams breaking 
through a clouded sky — a tremor of happiness ran all over the 
house. When she lifted up her noble head with the majestic 
pride of authority, as if born to rule the world, everyone felt 
like bowing before her. Who would have dared to disobey 
when, the power of empire on her front, she raised her hand 
in a gesture of command? And who could have stood- up 
against the stony glare of contempt in her eye and the haughty 
toss of her chin, and the disdainful wave of her arm, which 
seemed to sweep the wretch before her into utter nothingness? 

It was in the portrayal of the evil passions and the fiercest 
emotions that her powers rose to the most tremendous effects. 
Nothing more terrible can be conceived than was her aspect in 
her great climaxes. Clouds of sinister darkness gathered upon 
her brow; her eyes, naturally deep-set, began to protrude and 
to flash and scintillate with a truly hellish fire. Her nostrils 
fluttered in wild agitation as if breathing flame. Her body 
shot up to unnatural height. Her face transformed itself into 
a very Gorgon head, making you feel as if you saw the ser- 
pents wriggling in her locks. Her forefinger darted out like 
a poisoned dagger against the object of her execration; or 
her fist clenched as though it would shatter the universe at a 
blow; or her fingers bent like the veriest tiger's claws to lacer- 
ate the victim of her fury — a spectacle so terrific that the be- 
holder, shuddering with horror, would feel his blood run cold, 
and gasp for breath, and moan, " God help us all." 

This may sound like wild exaggeration, like an extrava- 

[280] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
gant picture produced by the overheated imagination of a 
young man charmed by a stage-goddess. I must confess that 
I was at first somewhat suspicious of my own sensations. I, 
therefore, at that as well as at later periods, repeatedly asked 
persons of ripe years who had seen Rachel, about the impres- 
sions they had received, and I found that theirs hardly ever 
materially differed from mine. Indeed, I have often heard 
gray-haired men and women, persons of cultivated artistic 
judgment, speak of Rachel with the same sort of bewildered 
enthusiasm that I had experienced myself. I am sure, there 
was in my admiration of Rachel nothing of the infatuation of 
an ingenuous youth for an actress which we sometimes hear or 
read of. If anybody had offered to introduce me personally 
to Rachel, nothing would have made me accept the invitation. 
Rachel was to me a demon, a supernatural entity, a mysterious 
force of nature, anything rather than a woman with whom one 
might dine, or speak about every-day things, or take a drive 
in a park. My enchantment was of an entirely spiritual kind, 
but so strong that in spite of the perils of my situation in 
Berlin I could not withstand it. So I visited the theater to 
see Rachel as often as the business I had in hand, which then 
required occasional night drives to Spandau, permitted such 
a luxury. Of course, I was not altogether unmindful of the 
danger to which I was exposing myself. I always managed to 
have a seat in the parterre near the entrance. While the cur- 
tain was up, I was sure that all eyes would be riveted on the 
scene. Between the acts, when people in front of me would 
turn around to look at the audience, I kept my face well cov- 
ered with an opera glass examining the boxes. And as soon 
as the curtain fell after the last act, I hurried away in order to 
avoid the crowd. 

But one night, when the closing scene enchained me in an 

[ 281 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
unusual degree, my exit was not quick enough. I found my- 
self wedged in among the multitude pressing for the street, 
and suddenly in the swaying throng, a face turned toward 
me which I knew but too well for my comfort. It was that of 
a man who two years before had been a student at the univer- 
sity at Bonn, who had been a member of our democratic club, 
and who, by some exceedingly questionable transaction, had 
become suspected of acting for the police as a spy. I had heard 
of his presence in Berlin, and there, also, he was talked of 
among my friends as one whom it would be well to avoid. 
Now he looked at me in a manner clearly indicating that he 
recognized me, but as if he were astonished to see me there. 
I returned his gaze, as if I resented the impertinence of a 
stranger looking at me so inquisitively. So we stood face to 
face for a few moments, both unable to move. When the pres- 
sure of the crowd relaxed, I made the greatest possible haste 
to disappear among the passersby on the street. That was my 
last Rachel night in Berlin. 

But I saw her again later in Paris, and still later in Amer- 
ica. In fact, I have seen her in all her great characters, in not 
a few of them several times, and the impression was always 
identically the same, even during her American tour when her 
fatal ailment had already seized upon her, and her powers 
were said to be on the wane. Endeavoring to account more 
clearly for those impressions. I sometimes asked myself, " But 
is this really the mirror held up to nature? Did ever a woman 
in natural life speak in such tones? Have such women as 
Rachel portrays ever lived? " The answer I uniformly arrived 
at was that such questions were idle; if Phedre, Roxane, Vir- 
ginia ever lived, so they must have been as Rachel showed 
them; or, rather, Rachel in her acting was happiness, misery, 
love, jealousy, hatred, revenge, anger, rage — all these things 

[282] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
in an ideal grandeur, in their highest poetic potency, in gigan- 
tic reality. This may not be a very satisfactory definition, but 
it is as precise as I can make it. It was to see, to hear, and to 
be carried away, magically, irresistibly. The waves of delight 
or of anguish or of horror with which Rachel flooded the souls 
of her audiences baffled all critical analysis. Criticism floun- 
dered about in helpless embarrassment trying to classify her 
performances, or to measure them by any customary standard. 
She stood quite alone. To compare her with other actors or 
actresses seemed futile, for there was between them not a mere 
difference of degree, but a difference of kind. Various actresses 
of the time sought to imitate her; but whoever had seen the 
original simply shrugged his shoulders at the copies. It was 
the mechanism without the divine breath. I have subsequently 
seen only three actresses — Ristori, Wolter, and Sarah Bern- 
hardt — who now and then, by some inspired gesture or intona- 
tion of voice, reminded me of Rachel ; but only at passing mo- 
ments. On the whole, the difference between them was very 
great. It was the difference between unique genius which 
irresistibly overpowers and subdues us and to which we in- 
voluntarily bow, and extraordinary talent which we simply 
admire. Rachel has therefore remained with me an overshad- 
owing memory, and when in later years in my familiar circle 
we discussed the merits of contemporaneous stage perfor- 
mances, and someone among us grew enthusiastic about this or 
that, living actor or actress, I could seldom repress the remark 
— in fact, I fear I made it often enough to become tiresome — 
" All this is very fine, but, ah! — you should have seen Rachel." 
A few days after the meeting with the spy a real misfor- 
tune befell me. I went with my friends Rhodes and Miiller 
to a public bath. I slipped and fell on the wet floor, injuring 
my left hip so much that I was unable to rise. After I had 

[283] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
been carried to my quarters in the Markgraf en Strasse, two sur- 
geon friends examined my injury. It turned out that I was 
suffering only from a strong contusion, which threatened to 
keep me in bed a considerable time. There I lay immovable 
and helpless while the city teemed with police agents to whom 
the catching of an insurrectionist from Baden or the Palati- 
nate, who was, moreover, prosecuted on account of other polit- 
ical sins and now engaged in a further mischief, would have 
been an especial pleasure. My invalid condition lasted two 
weeks. As soon as I could leave the house again I took up 
with redoubled zeal my task, the story of which I shall now 
endeavor to give in a coherent report. 



[284] 



CHAPTER X 

IMMEDIATELY after my arrival in Berlin I put myself 
in communication with several persons, who had been desig- 
nated to me as trustworthy by Frau Kinkel, and by my dem- 
ocratic friends. I spent some time in studying them carefully, 
as I could not confide the purpose of my presence in Berlin to 
anyone of whom I might not be convinced that he would be 
useful in its accomplishment. After this review I told my 
secret to one of them only, Dr. Falkenthal, a physician who 
practiced and lived the life of an old bachelor in the suburb of 
Moabit. Falkenthal had already been in correspondence with. 
Frau Kinkel. He had an extended acquaintance in Spandau 
and conducted me there to an innkeeper by the name of 
Kriiger, for whom he vouched as a thoroughly reliable and 
energetic man. Mr. Kriiger occupied in Spandau a highly re- 
spected position. He had for several years served his town 
as a member of the common council; he conducted the best 
hotel; he was a man of some property, and was also gen- 
erally liked on account of his honorable character and his 
amiable disposition. Although much older than myself, we 
gradually became true friends. I found in him not only quali- 
ties of heart and soul thoroughly sympathetic to me, but also 
clear judgment, great discretion, unflinching courage, and a 
noble, self-sacrificing devotion. He offered me his hotel as 
headquarters for my enterprise. 

I preferred, however, not to live in Spandau, as the pres- 
ence of a stranger in so small a town could not well remain a 

[285] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
secret. To dwell in the great city of Berlin appeared to me 
much less dangerous, at least during the long time of prepa- 
ration which my undertaking would probably require. 

From Berlin to Spandau and from Spandau back to 
Berlin I did not avail myself of the railroad, because at the 
Berlin station the police examined the passcards of every trav- 
eler, even on the way-trains, and if my passport, with the 
name of Heribert Jiissen, issued in Cologne, appeared too fre- 
quently, it might have excited suspicion. I therefore always 
hired a street cab, a " droschke," and each time a different 
one, on going and coming to and from Spandau, usually mak- 
ing the short journey during the night. 

The first point to be considered was whether it would be 
feasible to liberate Kinkel by force. I soon convinced myself 
that there was no such possibility. The armed guard of the 
penitentiary itself consisted only of a handful of soldiers and 
the turnkeys on duty. It would therefore have been possible 
for a number of resolute men to storm the building. But it 
was situated in the center of a fortified town filled with sol- 
diers, and the first signal of alarm would have attracted an 
overpowering force. Such a venture would therefore have 
been hopeless. On the other hand, we knew of cases in which 
prisoners, even more closely watched than Kinkel was, had 
escaped by breaking through barred windows and tunneling 
walls, and then being helped to a safe place by their friends. 
But this, too, seemed hardly possible in our case for several 
reasons, among which Kinkel's lack of skill in the use of his 
hands was not the least serious. In any event, it seemed pru- 
dent to try first whether or not one or the other of the officers 
of the penitentiary could be induced to help us. This sort of 
business was extremely repugnant to me. But what would I 
not do to save a dear friend, who had been so badly and cruelly 

[286] 




— 
V 

- 
1 



K 

- 
- 
- 

V. 

/. 



- . - 




n 

— 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
treated, and a champion of liberty who might still be so useful 
to a great cause? 

Kriiger selected two young men, well known to him, who 
were in friendly intercourse with some of the officers to be 
taken into our confidence. Their names were Poritz and Led- 
dihn, vigorous, strong, and true men, who confessed them- 
selves willing to render any aid required of them in so good a 
work as the liberation of such a prisoner as Kinkel. They 
agreed to bring to me the one of the penitentiary guards 
who. they believed, might be most easily persuaded. Thus they 
introduced to me in a little beerhouse, in which I had a room 
to myself, a turnkey who had been, like most of his colleagues, 
a non-commissioned officer in the army and was now support- 
ing a large family upon a very small salary. Poritz and Led- 
dihn had vouched to him for my good faith, and he listened 
quietly to what I had to say. I presented myself as a traveler 
for a business house, who was closely related to the Kinkel 
family. I described to him the misery of the wife and the 
children, and how anxious they were, lest with the poor convict 
fare he would gradually waste away in body and mind. Would 
it not be possible to smuggle into Kinkel's cell from time to 
time a bit of meat or a glass of wine to keep up in a meas- 
ure his strength, until the king's grace would take pity on 
him? 

The turnkey thought Kinkel's lot indeed very deplorable. 
It would be a good work to alleviate it a little — perhaps not 
impossible, but perilous. He would consider what might be 
done. At the close of our conversation I slipped a ten-thaler 
note into his hand with the request that he buy with it some 
nourishing food for Kinkel if he could transmit it to him with- 
out danger. I intimated that business affairs required me to 
leave Spandau, but that I would return in a few days, to hear 

[287] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
what report he could give about the condition of the prisoner. 
He could be certain of my gratitude. 

Thus we parted. Three days later I went again to Span- 
dau and met the turnkey in the same way as before. He told 
me he had succeeded in handing to Kinkel a sausage and a 
little loaf of bread, and that he had found the prisoner in com- 
paratively good condition. He was also willing to do still more 
in a similar way. Of course I did not wish him to do so at his 
own expense, and therefore gave him a second ten-thaler note 
which I accompanied with the request that he deliver into 
Kinkel's hands a few words written on a slip of paper, and 
bring back to me from Kinkel a word in reply. This too he 
promised to do. I wrote down a few words without a signature, 
containing about the following: "Your friends are true to 
you. Keep up your courage." It was less important to me to 
inform Kinkel of my presence than to satisfy myself that the 
turnkey had really carried out my instructions, and whether 
I could go farther with him. 

Again I left to return in a few days. In the same manner 
as before my man turned up and brought me my slip of paper, 
which bore a word of thanks in Kinkel's hand. The turnkey 
had evidently kept his promise, and had thereby taken a step 
which compromised him greatly. Now it appeared to me time 
to come to the point. Thus I told him that the thought had 
crossed my brain what a splendid deed it would be to deliver 
Kinkel entirely from his dreadful situation, and, that before 
returning to my home on the Rhine, I thought it my duty to 
ask him whether this thing could not be accomplished through 
his aid. The man started and at once exclaimed this would be 
impossible; with such an attempt he could and would have 
nothing to do. 

The mere suggestion had evidently terrified him, and I 

[ ~ 88 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
saw clearly that he was not the man whom I needed. Now I 
had to get rid of him and assure myself at the same time of his 
silence. I expressed to him my regret at his unwillingness, and 
added, that if he, who had been represented to me as a com- 
passionate and at the same time courageous man, thought such 
an attempt hopeless, I had to accept his opinion and abandon 
the idea. I would therefore without delay depart for my home 
and not return. Then I hinted to him something about a secret 
and mysterious power which, if it could not liberate Kinkel, 
might become very dangerous to those who betrayed him. I 
succeeded indeed in intimidating him to such a degree that he 
begged me most earnestly not to bear any ill-will against him. 
I assured him that if he would bury in silence all that had hap- 
pened, he might expect me to remain his friend. He might 
count even upon my further gratitude if, also, after my de- 
parture he would continue to furnish Kinkel from time to time 
with some nourishment. This he promised to do with demon- 
strative earnestness. Then I handed him another ten-thaler 
note and took leave of him forever. 

So my first attempt had failed. I remained quiet for some 
days until Kriiger, Leddihn and Poritz, who in the meantime 
had been watching the penitentiary people very carefully, 
communicated to me their conviction that my man had not 
disclosed anything. Thereupon my Spandau friends brought 
to me another turnkey. I began with him in the same manner 
as with the first, and everything seemed to progress favorably 
until I put the question whether or not he was willing to lend 
his hand in an attempt to set Kinkel free. The second man 
showed no more courage than the "first, whereupon I dismissed 
him. A third man was brought, but he seemed so frightened 
by the first word that I did not put the decisive question to 
him at all. 

[ 289 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
Now it appeared to me prudent to let the affair rest for 
a while, at least until we could be perfectly assured that the 
three disquieted souls in the penitentiary had preserved silence. 
My sojourn in Berlin, too, began to become uncomfortable 
to me. The number of friends who knew of my presence in 
the Prussian capital had grown a little too large, and I 
was confronted too often by the question why I was there and 
what were my intentions. I therefore requested one of my 
friends to bid good-bye to the others in my behalf. I had de- 
parted not to return. Where I went, nobody knew. In fact, I 
went for a week or two to Hamburg. There I met my friend 
Strodtmann and got into communication with some people of 
our way of thinking. But the most agreeable society could 
not hold me long. By the end of September I returned to 
my work, but I did not go back to Berlin, thinking it safer 
to live with my friend, Dr. Falkenthal, in the suburb of 
Moabit. 

At Spandau I received the report that everything had re- 
mained quiet. In general my secret had been well kept. To 
my friends in Berlin I had disappeared into regions unknown. 
Only one of them, a law student, by the name of Dreyer, once 
accidentally ran against me in Moabit. He may have had a 
suspicion as to what my business was, but I could firmly count 
upon his discretion. At a later period many persons who were 
entire strangers to me have stated that they were at that time 
in confidential relations with me, but such statements were un- 
founded. Even Dr. Falkenthal and Kriiger did not at that 
time know my true name. To them I was, as my passport in- 
dicated, Heribert Jiissen, and among Dr. Falkenthal's neigh- 
bors, who sometimes saw me, I passed for a young physician 
assisting the doctor in his studies. To strengthen this impres- 
sion I always carried a little kit of surgical instruments with 

[290] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
me as they are frequently seen in the hands of physicians. 
From Moabit I made my nightly excursions as before. 

After my return from Hamburg I did not at once suc- 
ceed in finding among the penitentiary officials the man I 
wanted. A fourth was introduced to me, but he too would 
undertake nothing more than to smuggle into Kinkel's cell 
some eatables and perhaps a written communication. I began 
to entertain serious doubts as to whether the plan so far pur- 
sued could be successfully carried out, for the list of the turn- 
keys was nearly exhausted. Then suddenly and unexpectedly 
I found the helper whom I had so long looked for in vain. My 
Spandau friends made me acquainted with Officer Brune. 

At the first moment of our meeting I received from him 
an impression very different from that which his colleagues 
had made upon me. He too had been a non-commissioned offi- 
cer in the army; he too had wife and children and a miserable 
salary like the others. But in his bearing there was nothing of 
the servile humility so frequently found among subalterns. 
When I talked to him of Kinkel and of my desire to alleviate 
his misery at least a little by conveying to him additional fare, 
Brune's face expressed none of the pitiable embarrassment of 
the man who is vacillating between his sense of duty and a 
ten-thaler note. Brune stood firmly upright like a man who 
is not ashamed of what he is willing to do. He talked with 
astonishing frankness without waiting for the gradual ad- 
vance of my suggestions. 

" Certainly," he said, " I will help as much as I can. It 
is a shame and a disgrace that so learned and worthy a gentle- 
man should sit here among common rogues in this peni- 
tentiary. I would gladly help him out myself if I had not to 
take care of my wife and children." 

His indignation at the treatment Kinkel had received 

[ 291 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
appeared so honest, and the whole manner of the man ex- 
pressed so much courage and self-respect that I thought I 
might come to the point with him without circumlocution. 
And thus I told him point-blank that if the support of his 
family was his greatest trouble, I would be able to overcome 
that difficulty. Assured of this, would he then, I asked, be 
willing to lend a hand to Kinkel's escape? 

" If it can be done," he answered; "but you know it is 
a difficult and dangerous thing. I will consider whether and 
how it may be done. Give me three days' time to think it 



over." 



" Good," I replied, " do think it over; to judge from your 
accent you are a Westphalian." 

" Yes, born near Soest." 

"Then we are near neighbors; I am a Rhinelander. In 
three days then." 

Those were three long days which I passed in Dr. Falken- 
thal's quarters. I sought to soothe my impatience by reading 
Dumas' " Three Musketeers " and a large part of Lamar- 
tine's history of the Girondists. But the book would fall again 
and again into my lap and my thoughts roam abroad. 

On the evening of the third day I went again to Spandau 
and a heavy burden fell from my heart at Brune's first word. 

" I have thought it over," he said. " I think we can 
do it." 

I had to restrain myself for joy. Brune explained how 
some night in the near future, when the watch in the upper 
story of the penitentiary would be his and a certain other offi- 
cer would be in the lower story, he might possess himself of 
the necessary keys and conduct Kinkel to the gate of the 
building. The plan, as he laid it before me, the details of which 
I shall return to later, appeared feasible. 

[292] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 

But not until the night from the 5th to the Gth of No- 
vember would the night watches be as he would have them. 
This suited me, for I too wanted some time for necessary prep- 
arations. 

Then I informed Brune what provision I would be able 
to make for his family. A sum of money was at my disposal 
which was contributed partly by German democrats, partly 
by personal admirers of Kinkel, among them the Russian 
Baroness Briining, of whom I shall have more to say. This 
enabled me to offer to Brune a decent compensation. Brune was 
content. The question whether it would be best to ship him 
and his family to America he rejected at once. Perhaps he 
hoped to remain undiscovered as a participant in our enter- 
prise or he preferred, in case of discovery, to suffer his punish- 
ment and to keep his family in the Fatherland. 

Thus we were agreed. Now the important preparations 
were taken in hand. Frau Kinkel had instructed me to call 
personally for the sum of money at my disposal at the resi- 
dence of a lady in Berlin, a friend of hers who was a relative of 
the celebrated Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. It was in the dusk 
of evening that I arrived at this lady's house. I was received by 
a somewhat solemn footman to whom I gave my name Heri- 
bert Jiissen. He showed me into a large drawing-room, in 
which everything — furniture, pictures, books, musical instru- 
ments — breathed comfort and refinement. I had to wait a little 
while, and the contrast between my own wild business and these 
peaceable and elegant surroundings became very sensible to 
me. At last a lady clad in black entered, whose features I 
could just discern in the twilight. She was no longer young 
nor altogether beautiful. But her presence radiated a rare 
charm. In her hand she carried a large pocketbook. 

" You bring me greetings from a Rhineland friend? " she 

[293 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
said with one of those mellow voices that touch the soul like 
a benefaction. 

" Yes, cordial greetings," I replied, " from a friend who 
asked me to beg you for a package of valuable papers which 
she had put into your hands for safe-keeping." 

" I knew that you would come at about this time," the 
lady replied. " In this pocketbook you will find all. I do not 
know your plans, but they must be good. You have my warm- 
est wishes; God protect and bless you." Then she reached out 
to me her slender hand with a warm pressure, and I felt, after 
having left her, that her blessing had already become a reality. 

That money was a heavy care to me. Never had I borne 
any responsibility of this kind for the property of others. In 
order not to expose this precious treasure to any accident, I 
carried it constantly with me tightly sewed in the inside pocket 
of my waistcoat. 

The difficult task which I had still to perform before the 
decisive hour consisted in arranging for means of transporta- 
tion to a safe place of refuge. Where should we turn after the 
escape of the prisoner? The frontiers of Switzerland, Belgium 
and France were too far away. We could not venture upon so 
long a journey through a hostile country. Nothing remained, 
therefore, but to try to reach the seacoast somewhere in order 
to cross over to England. After due consideration I con- 
cluded that the government would certainly take all pre- 
cautions to watch every outgoing vessel in the harbors of 
Bremen and Hamburg. It appeared therefore prudent to 
choose another seaport, and so I turned to Mecklenburg. We 
had an influential and true friend in Rostock in the eminent 
jurist and president of the house of delegates, Moritz Wig- 
gers, with whom I had become personally acquainted at the 
democratic congress in Braunschweig. I might also hope to 

[29-t] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
reach Rostock more quickly than any other port — for we could 
not trust ourselves to the railroads — and the journey to Ros- 
tock offered the advantage that if we left Spandau about mid- 
night, we might hope to cross the Mecklenburg frontier and 
thus to be beyond the immediate pursuit by the Prussian police 
about daybreak. I had also on my list of reliable persons a 
very considerable number of Mecklenburgers to whom I could 
apply for assistance. 

I now set out to travel along the road which I had re- 
solved to take, in order to make the necessary arrangements 
as to relays of horses and carriages for the decisive night and 
the day following. Of course, we could use only private car- 
riages with, if possible, the owners on the box. Until then I 
had succeeded in keeping my secret within a very narrow circle 
of participants. But now it was necessary to draw a larger 
number of persons into confidence, and thus the danger grew 
in proportion. What I feared most was not malicious treach- 
ery, but excessive and indiscreet zeal. Everywhere I was met 
with hearty cordiality, and this cordiality was not confined to 
persons of the same political belief. 

Of this I had a surprising example. My democratic 
friends had designated as specially trustworthy and helpful a 
gentleman living in the interior of Mecklenburg who was not 
on my list. I visited him and was very kindly received. He 
also assured me without hesitation of his willing assistance in 
the arrangement for relays. Then our conversation turned 
upon politics, and to my indescribable astonishment, my new 
friend declared to me that he considered our democratic ideas 
as well meant but as vain phantasies. He became quite elo- 
quent in setting forth his opinion that human society would 
appear most delightful and would also be most happy if it 
were as variegated and checkered as possible in its division into 

[ 295 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
estates and classes and ranks and conditions and callings, with 
princes, knights, merchants, clergymen, tradesmen, peasants, 
each and all with different rights and duties. Even monas- 
teries he would have preserved with their abbots and abbesses, 
monks and nuns. In short, of all phases of human civilization 
the Middle Ages seemed to him the most congenial. "You 
see," he added with a kindly smile, "I am what you would 
call a full-blooded reactionary, and I don't believe at all in your 
liberty and equality and that sort of thing. But that they have 
put Kinkel, a poet and a sage, into a penitentiary on account 
of his idealistic imaginings, that is a revolting scandal, and 
although I am a good conservative Mecklenburger, I am at all 
times ready to help Kinkel out." 

So we parted in the warmest agreement. But after all I 
did not feel quite comfortable about my new friend, and I 
talked afterwards with my democratic associates in Mecklen- 
burg of the curious speeches of this gentleman and of my 
anxiety about him. " Do not borrow any trouble on that 
score," was the answer. " He is indeed a very curious saint and 
talks amazing stuff. But when there is a good deed to be done, 
he is as true as gold." And so he proved to be. 

After a journey of several days my relays were arranged, 
and I could hope that a drive of less than thirty hours would 
take us from Spandau to Rostock. There we might confide 
ourselves to our good friends until a vessel should be ready to 
take us across the sea. To carry us from Spandau to the first 
relay, Kriiger applied to a well-to-do farmer in the neighbor- 
hood by the name of Hensel, who had fast horses and would 
be glad to put them and his carriage and himself as driver at 
our disposal. 

On November 4 I took leave of Dr. Falkenthal. He 
was acquainted with my plans in general, but I had not 

[296] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
thought it necessary to initiate him into all the details. So he 
did not know the exact night in which the attempt was to be 
made, and he was also discreet enough not to ask me about it. 
But in bidding me farewell, he gave me a brace of pistols, 
which might serve me in close quarters. Arrived in Spandau 
on the evening of November 4, I had a conversation with 
Brune, in which we talked over the details of our scheme, in 
order to assure ourselves that nothing had been neglected. 
Everything seemed to be in order. 

Our programme disposed of, Brune said: "There is one 
more thing of which I do not like to speak." 

I listened with some surprise. "What is it?' 
"You have my fullest confidence," Brune continued. 
" What you have promised to do for my family that you will 
honestly do — if you can." 

" Certainly I can. I have the means in my possession." 
"That is not what I mean," Brune objected. 'If every- 
thing goes well to-morrow night, then I am as sure of the 
money as if I had it in my pocket. That I know. But maybe 
all will not go well. The thing is dangerous. Accident may 
have its play. Something human can happen to you and to 
me too, in fact, to both of us. And what will then become 
of my family, my wife and my children? ' 

He was silent for a moment and so was I. Now, what 
further? " I asked. 

"Considering the matter calmly," Brune slowly an- 
swered, " you will see yourself that the money must be in the 
hands of my family before I risk my head." 

" You tell me yourself that I must consider this thing," I 
said with some hesitation. " Let me do so and I shall give you 
my answer as soon as possible. In the meantime will you pre- 
pare everything according to our agreement? ' 

[297] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 

" You may depend upon it." 

Then we wished each other good-night. 

The hour I spent after this in the solitude of my room in 
Kriiger's hotel, taking counsel with myself, I have never for- 
gotten. 

The money, according to my notions an enormous sum, 
had been confided to me for a specific purpose ; should it be lost 
without having accomplished this purpose, then it was all over 
with Kinkel, for such a sum could hardly be raised for him a 
second time. My personal honor would also be lost, for I 
would then have upon me a suspicion of dishonesty or at least 
a reproach of guilty recklessness. And was it not really great 
recklessness to confide this trust fund, upon a mere promise, 
without further guarantee, to a man who after all was a 
stranger to me? What did I really know of Brune? Nothing 
but that his face and his utterances had made upon me a most 
favorable impression and that he was held in good repute by 
his acquaintances. And these acquaintances had told me that 
they would have brought Brune first to me had they not 
thought that a man like him would hardly consider such a 
proposition. Indeed, they had added, that if he did it, he 
might be absolutely trusted. But was not the opportunity to 
appropriate to himself such a sum of money and then to mani- 
fest his official fidelity by delivering me up to the police, to a 
person in his situation, in the highest degree seductive? And 
would not he, if he contemplated such a treachery, act exactly 
as Brune had done? Had he not by the most positive promises 
and by apparent preparations excited my hopes to the utmost, 
to the end of inducing me by some clever pretext to deliver 
to him the money, and then to ruin me all the more easily? 

On the other hand, could Brune, were he ever so honest, 
really act differently? Could he expose his wife and his chil- 

[298] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
dren to the chance of accident? Was he not obliged in order 
to secure the future of his family to demand the money in 
advance? Would I not do the same in his situation? Further- 
more, did Brune seem like a traitor? Could a traitor look into 
my eyes and speak to me as Brune had done? Was his straight- 
forward, frank, candid, even proud bearing that of a man 
who would entice another into an ambush to rob him? Im- 
possible. 

And finally, how could I hope to win if I did not dare? 
Should I abandon the liberation of my friend because I would 
deny to Brune the request which everybody else would make 
to me under similar circumstances? Yes, it was clear, if I 
would save Kinkel from his dreadful fate, I had to risk if 
necessary even my honor. 

The thought to deposit the money for Brune in a third 
person's hand had occurred to me, but I rejected it, partly be- 
cause that might have led to further complications ; partly, also, 
because if I must dare, I preferred to dare in a manner which 
Brune would take as proof of my absolute confidence in his 
integrity. 

I reminded myself that the war in Schleswig-Holstein 
was still going on. In the Schleswig-Holstein army, I 
thought, I might enlist as a volunteer under an assumed name 
and seek my fate on the field of battle, should the enterprise 
in Spandau miscarry, and the money be lost, and I at the same 
time escape. My friends would then at least believe in my 
honesty. This was the reasoning that led me to the decision to 
hand over the money to Brune before the fulfillment of his 
promise. I had just formed this conclusion when Kriiger 
knocked at my door and said that Poritz and Leddihn were 
below; was there still anything more they could do for me? 

" Yes," I answered. " I would ask them to bring Brune 

[299] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
to me once again in a quarter of an hour to the Heinrich 
Platz." 

Brune came with my friends. I took him aside. 

" Mr. Brune," I said, " I will not let you go to bed with 
a load of doubt on your heart. We have spoken about the 
money. That money is a treasure confided to me. My honor 
hangs on it. Everything I trust to you — money, honor, free- 
dom, all. You are a brave man. I wish to say to you still this 
night that to-morrow evening at five o'clock I shall bring the 
money to your quarters." 

Brune was silent for a moment. At last he heaved a sigh 
and replied : " I would probably have done it without this. To- 
morrow at midnight your friend Kinkel will be a free man." 

I passed the larger part of the following day with 
Kriiger, Leddihn, and Poritz, in going over the chances of our 
enterprise, in order to make provision for all not yet foreseen 
accidents. At last the evening came. I put the money for 
Brune into a cigar box and went to his dwelling. I found him 
alone in his scantily furnished but neat living-room, and 
handed the cigar box to him with: " Here it is; count it." 

"There you do not know me," he answered; " if between 
us a mere word were not sufficient, we should not have begun 
together. What comes from you, I don't count." 

" Is there anything to change in our plan? " 

" Nothing." 

" To-night, then." 

" To-night, and good luck ! " 

Indeed, we had good reason to be confident of the success 
of our plan, barring incalculable accidents. The penitentiary 
building was situated in the center of the town, a large, bar- 
rack-like edifice, the bare walls of which were pierced by one 
large gate and a multitude of narrow slits of windows. On all 

[ 300 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
four sides it was surrounded by streets. The entrance was on 
the main street. It led into a large gateway. Inside of that 
gateway there was, on the right, a door opening into the official 
dwelling of the director of the institution, and on the left a 
door leading into the guardroom of the soldiers on duty in the 
prison. At the end of the passage a third door opened upon an 
inner court. A stone staircase leading up from the hall united 
the lower with the upper stories. High up on the second story 
was Kinkel's cell. It had a window towards the rear of the 
edifice. This window was guarded by a screen which opened 
upwards so that a little daylight fell in from above and only 
a small bit of sky could be seen, but nothing of the surround- 
ings below. The window was also guarded by strong iron 
bars, wire lattice and a wooden shutter, which was closed at 
night — in short, by all the contrivances that are usually em- 
ployed to shut off a prisoner from all communication with 
the outside world. Moreover, the cell was divided into two 
compartments by a strong wooden railing, which reached from 
the floor to the ceiling. One of the compartments contained 
Kinkel's bed; in the other, during the day, he did his work. 
The two compartments were united by a door in the wooden 
railing, which every evening was securely fastened. The en- 
trance to the cell from the corridor was guarded by two heavy 
doors, with several locks. In the street, under Kinkel's cell, 
stood day and night a sentinel. Another sentinel watched dur- 
ing the daytime the door of the building on the main street, 
but he was transferred to the inner court during the night — 
a regulation which proved very important to us. Had it not 
been for this stupid arrangement we would never have at- 
tempted what we did. The cell, the doors, the locks on the 
railings, were all examined several times every twenty-four 
hours by the turnkeys on duty. 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
The keys to Kinkel's cell, as well as those to the door in 
the inside wooden railing, were during the night, after Kinkel 
had been locked up in his compartment, kept in a locker in the 
room of the inspector, the so-called Revier room. As Brune 
had no access to the Revier room during the night, and the key 
had been confided to another superior officer, he had availed 
himself of some opportunity to procure a wax impression of 
that key, from which a duplicate key was made, enabling 
Brune to enter the Revier room during the night. The key 
to the locker containing the keys to Kinkel's cell was, as Brune 
knew, in the evening negligently put on top of that locker, 
so that without difficulty he could possess himself of the keys 
to the cell. Thus Brune believed himself fully able to enter 
the cell during the night and to take the prisoner out. It had 
been agreed that Brune, who had the watch of the night of 
the 5th to the 6th of November on Kinkel's corridor, should 
bring Kinkel down the stairs into the gateway. He was sure 
that he could take him without danger past the turnkey watch- 
ing the lower floor. Whether he intended to interest that man 
in our affair, or to divert his attention in some manner, Brune 
did not tell me. He only assured me I might depend upon 
there being no difficulty about this. As soon as Kinkel was 
conducted into the gateway below, I was to be there to receive 
him. In one of the wings of the great door that opened upon 
the main street there was a little postern gate to facilitate the 
daily passage in and out. Of the key of this postern gate we had 
also procured a wax impression, and from it a duplicate key. 
Now, it was to be my task, shortly after midnight, after the 
town night watchman — for in Spandau there was at that time 
still a night watchman with spear and rattle — had passed 
by the building on the street, to open the postern gate, to step 
into the interior of the gateway, there to await Brune and 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
Kinkel, to wrap Kinkel up in a cloak, to take him through the 
postern gate into the street and to hurry with him to Kruger's 
hotel, where he was to put on a suit of clothes, and then step 
with me into Hensel's carriage — and away. 

I had asked Brune to provide Kinkel with a plentiful sup- 
ply of food, so that he might be in a good physical condition. 
But to avoid long excitement, Kinkel was to be informed only 
on the evening of the 5th of November, the night of the at- 
tempt, that something was being done for him, and that he 
should go to bed at the accustomed hour, rise immediately be- 
fore midnight, dress himself and be ready for the venture. 

On the same day Leddihn and Poritz had entrusted two 
good, able-bodied friends with the charge of guarding the 
street corners nearest to the penitentiary during the night and 
to come to our aid if necessary. About midnight all my people 
were at their posts, and after the night watchman had passed 
down the street I approached the door of the penitentiary. I 
had covered my feet with rubber shoes, so as to make my step 
inaudible. A second pair of rubber shoes I had with me for 
Kinkel. In my belt I carried the pistols given to me by Dr. 
Falkenthal; in one pocket a well-sharpened dirk and in another 
a slungshot, with which to arm Kinkel in case of stress. I had 
thrown across my shoulders a large cloak with sleeves, which 
should serve Kinkel as a first wrap. So equipped I softly 
opened the postern gate to step into the gateway of the prison. 
I left that little gate ajar and the key sticking in the lock. The 
gateway was dimly lighted by a lantern hanging from the 
ceiling. My first task was to prevent the opening from the 
inside of the director's door on the right, and of the guard- 
room door on the left, and I did so by tying the doorhandles 
to the iron fastening of the bell rope with stout strings. This 
was the most delicate piece of work I had to do. Nothing 

[303] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
moved. My gaze was riveted on the end of the passage oppo- 
site where Brune was to appear with Kinkel. 

So I waited. One minute elapsed after another, but all 
remained still. I waited a full quarter of an hour, but nothing 
stirred. What did this mean? According to all calculations 
they ought to have joined me some time ago. My situation 
began to appear to me very precarious. Was Brune after all 
faithless? I took one of my pistols out of my belt and held it 
in my left hand ready to fire, and my dirk in the right. But 
I resolved to remain at my post until I could say to myself 
that the last chance of success was gone. Half an hour had 
passed and still everything was quiet as the grave. Suddenly I 
heard a faint rustle, and at the other end of the gateway I 
saw a dark figure appear like a specter as if it had stepped out 
of the wall. My hands closed more tightly on my weapons. 
The next moment I recognized in the dim light the form of 
Brune. There he was at last, but alone. He put his finger upon 
his lips and approached me. I awaited him ready for the 
worst. 

" I am unfortunate," he whispered with his mouth at my 
ear. " I have tried everything, I have failed. The keys were 
not in the locker. Come to me to-morrow and get your money 
back." 

I said nothing in reply, but quickly untied the strings 
from the door handles, right and left, and then stepped out 
through the postern gate, locked it, and put the key into my 
pocket. I was hardly on the street when Leddihn and Poritz 
hastened to join me. With a few words I told them what had 
happened. " We were afraid you had been trapped," said 
Leddihn. " You stayed so long inside that we were on the 
point of coming after you to fetch you out." 

Soon we reached Kriiger's hotel, where Hensel stood 

[304] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
ready with his carriage to take Kinkel and me away. The dis- 
appointment that followed my report was terrible. 

" But there is something more to do this night," said 
I, " for my relays stand on the road deep into Mecklenburg. 
We must order them off." 

I stepped into the carriage, an open vehicle with a top 
over the back seat. Hensel took the reins, and so we drove 
away. It was a melancholy journey. We were on the road 
something over three hours when we observed sparks of fire 
sputtering from a black object that came toward us. We 
quickly recognized it to be a carriage. I had steel and flint 
at hand and also struck sparks. This was the signal of recog- 
nition that I had agreed upon with my Mecklenburg friends. 
The carriage coming toward us stopped and so did we. 

"Is this the right one?" asked a voice. This was the 
concerted question. 

" It is the right one," I replied, " but our enterprise has 
failed. Pray turn back and advise the next relay and re- 
quest our friends there to pass on the word in this way. But 
for Heaven's sake keep silent about the rest, lest all may be 
lost." 

" Of course, but what a confounded disappointment! 
How did the failure happen? " 

" Another time. Good-night." 

The two carriages turned. We drove back in the direction 
of Spandau, but very slowly, almost as if a part of a funeral 
procession, both sitting silent. I tormented myself with the 
gravest reproaches. Could not the unfortunate accident that 
had crossed our plan easily have been prevented? Could we 
not have duplicated the keys to the cell as well as those to the 
postern gate and the Revier room? Certainly. But why had 
this not been done? Why had Brune not thought of it? But 

[305] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
as Brune had not done so, was it not my duty to see to it? I 
had neglected that duty. Mine, mine only, was the fault of this 
terrible miscarriage. Mine the responsibility that Kinkel was 
not now a free man hurrying to the seacoast behind fleet horses. 
The fruit of long and dangerous labor had recklessly been 
jeopardized by my negligence. Would I ever be able again to 
reknit the torn threads of the scheme? And, if so, was it not 
probable that through the improvidence of some one of the 
participants rumors of what had happened would get abroad 
and Kinkel would be surrounded with the severest measures 
of precaution and even carried into another and more secure 
dungeon? But if nothing of this did happen — where was the 
money entrusted to me? No longer in my possession — in the 
hands of another man who might keep it if he would, and I 
perfectly powerless to recover it. And thus Kinkel's horrible 
lot might be sealed forever through my guilt. Thus my con- 
science put itself to the rack in that terrible night. 

At last Hensel interrupted the silence. " How would it 
be," he said, " if we stopped for a few hours in Oranienburg? 
We could there feed our horses, sleep a little, and then com- 
fortably drive on." 

I was content. I began to feel very much exhausted ; and 
then, if of last night's happenings anything had got abroad 
in Spandau and thereby any danger threatened, the prudent 
and watchful Kriiger, I felt sure, would send somebody to find 
us on the road and to give warning. 

It was very dark when we arrived at a hotel in Oranien- 
burg. After I had permitted my thoughts to torment me a 
little longer, I fell asleep at last. When I awoke light shone 
through the windows of my room, and with me awoke also the 
consciousness of the whole weight of our failure, with even 
greater clearness than during the past night. Such awaken- 

[306] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
ings belong to the unhappiest moments of human life. We 
breakfasted late, and it was on this occasion that for the first 
time I saw my companion, Mr. Hensel, in clear daylight. I 
had met him at Kriiger's and on our night drive only in the 
dark. The stately broad-shouldered figure and the long dark 
beard had then struck my attention; but I could now see the 
clear, shrewd, and at the same time bold, sparkle of his eyes, 
and the expression of his face, which betokened a strong will 
as well as sincerity and kindness of heart. Hensel observed 
that I was in low spirits and tried to put a pleasant face upon 
things. He thought that our friends in Spandau were not only 
faithful, but also discreet, that the officers of the penitentiary 
in their own interest would keep silent, and that a new attempt 
would soon be possible. I willingly agreed with him. In fact 
I was busily thinking of what was now to be done, and such 
a thought is always the most effective antidote for discourage- 
ments. I have frequently in life had the experience that when 
we are struck by an especially heavy blow, we can do nothing 
better than to present to our minds all, even the worst, possible 
features of trouble that may still be in store for us, and so 
in our imagination drink the cup of bitterness down to the last 
drop; but then to turn our thoughts to the future and to oc- 
cupy them entirely witli that which must be done to prevent 
further misfortune, to repair the damage done, and to replace 
what has been lost by something equally desirable. This is a 
sure and rapid cure; for the consequences of the misfortune 
hardly ever will be as disastrous as imagined. Of course, I do 
not apply this to the loss of one very dear. 

In returning to Spandau we were in no hurry. We even 
thought that it would be more prudent to arrive there in the 
dark, and therefore started only after noon at a slow trot. 
Arrived in Spandau, I learned from Kriiger that all had re- 

[307] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
mained quiet. I forthwith went to Brune's rooms. I found 
him there, evidently expecting me. The little cigar box stood 
on the table. 

" That was cursed ill-luck last night," he said, " but it 
was not my fault. Everything was in the best of order, but 
as I opened the locker in the Revier room I could not find the 
keys to the cell. I searched and searched for them, but they 
were not there. This morning I learned that Inspector Semm- 
ler had accidentally, instead of placing them in the locker, put 
them into his pocket and carried them with him to his home." 
For a moment he was silent. " There is the money," he 
continued, pointing to the cigar box; " take it; count it first; no 
thaler is missing." 

I could not refrain from shaking the man's hand and in 
my heart asking his pardon for my doubts. 

" What comes from you," I answered, repeating his words 
of yesterday, " will not be counted. But what now? I do not 
give up. Must we wait until you have the night watch again? " 
" We might wait," he replied, " and in the meantime du- 
plicate all the keys that we need so that this difficulty may not 
arise again ; but," he added, " I have thought over the matter 
to-day. It is a disgrace that that man should sit in the convict's 
cell a day longer — I will try to help him this very night, if he 
has courage enough for a break-neck feat." 
" What, this night? " 

" Yes, this night. Now listen." Then Brune told me that 
the officer who during the coming night should have the watch 
on the upper stories, had been taken ill, and he, Brune, had 
offered to take his place. Thereupon he had thought he might 
without much difficulty take Kinkel into the loft under the 
roof and let him down with a rope from out of one of the dor- 
mer windows on the street. To this end he would of course 

[308] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
again require the keys to the cell, but after the accident of last 
night, when the inspector took them home with him through 
mere thoughtlessness, they would certainly be again in their 
accustomed place. I should only see to it that the street below 
was kept free, while Kinkel was let down from the roof, and 
that he then be promptly received and carried off. 'It is a 
somewhat perilous undertaking," Brune added; 'from the 
dormer window down to the street it may be sixty feet, but if 
the Herr Professor has courage, I think we may succeed." 

" I vouch for Kinkel's courage," I said; " what does not 
a prisoner dare for liberty? " 

The details were rapidly considered and determined upon. 
I undertook to procure the necessary rope for Brune. He was 
to wind it about his body under the overcoat and take it into 
the penitentiary building in that way. About midnight I was 
to be in the dark recess of the door of the house opposite the 
gate of the penitentiary, from which I could observe the dor- 
mer windows of the building; when in one of them I should 
see the light of a lantern move up and down perpendicularly, 
three times* that would be a sign that everything was in 
order for the descent. If standing in my sheltered place 
I then struck sparks with my steel and flint, Brune would 
understand from this signal that everything was in safe order 
on the street. 

With a hearty handshake I took leave of Brune and hur- 
ried to Kriiger's hotel. Poritz and Leddihn, whom I had 
quickly sent for, procured at once a rope of the necessary 
length and strength, and carried it to Brune's dwelling. But 
after freeing Kinkel how should we get him away from 
Spandau? I had no relays of horses and carriages on the road; 
the preceding night everything had fitted in so excellently, but 
now? Fortunately Hensel was still in Kriiger's house. When 

[309] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
I told him what was to happen in the next few hours, he broke 
out in loud jubilation. 

" I will take you with my own horses as far as they can 
travel," he exclaimed. 

"But our nearest friend is in Neu-Strelitz," I replied; 
" that is a good many miles from here. Will your horses hold 
out that distance? " 

" The devil take them if they don't," said Hensel. We 
resolved then to risk it and to confide ourselves to benignant 
fate. A short conversation with Poritz and Leddihn followed 
about the measures necessary to keep the streets clear of un- 
welcome intruders, while Kinkel was swinging down on his 
rope. Those measures were simple. My friends were to occupy 
the street corners with their stalwart fellows whom they had 
already employed last night, and if some belated reveler 
should show himself, they were to simulate intoxication and 
use all sorts of means to divert the unwelcome person from 
our path. In case of necessity they were to use force. Poritz 
and Leddihn vouched for everything. 

" Happy coincidence," chuckled Kriiger. " This evening 
some of the officers of the penitentiary are to celebrate a birth- 
day in this hotel. There will be a bowl of punch, and I will 
make that punch especially irresistible." 

" And you will detain those officers long enough? " 

" You may be sure of that. Not one of them will cross 
your way." This prospect put us into the best of humor, 
and we had a cosy little supper together. Our thoughts were, 
however, constantly directed to the accidents that might again 
play mischief with us, and fortunately an important possi- 
bility occurred to us. 

At the time of Kinkel's descent from the dormer window 
hanging on his rope, the rubbing of the rope against the edge 

[310 ] 




KINKEL S ESCAPE 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
of the brick wall might easily loosen tiles and brick which 
then would fall down and produce a loud clatter. We there- 
fore resolved that Hensel should take his carriage immediately 
after midnight slowly along the street so that the rattle of 
the vehicle on the rough cobblestone pavement might drown 
all other noises. 

Shortly before midnight I stood, equipped as on the night 
before, well hidden in the dark recess of the house door oppo- 
site the penitentiary. The street corners right and left were, 
according to agreement, properly watched, but our friends 
kept themselves as much as possible concealed. A few minutes 
later the night watchman shuffled down the street and when im- 
mediately in front of me swung his rattle and called the hour 
of twelve. Then he slouched quietly on and disappeared. What 
would I have given for a roaring storm and a splashing rain! 
But the night was perfectly still. My eye was riveted to the 
roof of the penitentiary building, the dormer windows of which 
I could scarcely distinguish. The street lights flared dimly. 
Suddenly there appeared a light above by which I could ob- 
serve the frame of one of the dormer windows; it moved three 
times up and down; that was the signal hoped for. With an 
eager glance I examined the street right and left. Nothing 
stirred. Then on my part I gave the signal agreed upon, strik- 
ing sparks. A second later the light above disappeared and I 
perceived a dark object slowly moving across the edge of 
the wall. My heart beat violently and drops of perspiration 
stood upon my forehead. Then the thing I had apprehended 
actually happened: tiles and brick, loosened by the rubbing 
rope, rained down upon the pavement with a loud clatter. 
" Now, good Heaven, help us! " At the same moment Hensel's 
carriage came rumbling over the cobblestones. The noise of 
the falling tiles and brick was no longer audible. But would 

[311] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
they not strike Kinkel's head and benumb him? Now the dark 
object had almost reached the ground. I jumped forward and 
touched him ; it was indeed my friend, and there he stood alive 
and on his feet. " This is a bold deed," were the first words he 
said to me. " Thank God," I answered. " Now off with the 
rope and away." I labored in vain to untie the rope that was 
wound around his body. 

" I cannot help you," Kinkel whispered, ' ' for the rope 
has fearfully lacerated both my hands." I pulled out my dirk 
and with great effort I succeeded in cutting the rope, the long 
end of which, as soon as it was free, was quickly pulled up. 
While I threw a cloak around Kinkel's shoulders and helped 
him get into the rubber shoes he looked anxiously around. 
Hensel's carriage had turned and was coming slowly back. 

" What carriage is that? " Kinkel asked. 

" Our carriage." 

Dark figures showed themselves at the street corners and 
approached us. 

" For Heaven's sake, what people are those? ' 

" Our friends." 

At a little distance we heard male voices sing, " Here we 
sit gayly together." 

" What is that? " asked Kinkel, while we hurried through 
a side street toward Kriiger's hotel. 

" Your jailers around a bowl of punch." 

" Capital! " said Kinkel. We entered the hotel through a 
back door and soon found ourselves in a room in which Kinkel 
was to put on the clothes that we had bought for him — a black 
cloth suit, a big bear-skin overcoat, and a cap like those worn 
by Prussian forest officers. From a room near by sounded the 
voices of the revelers. Kriiger, who had stood a few minutes 
looking on while Kinkel was exchanging his convict's garb 

[ 312 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
for an honest man's dress, suddenly went out with a peculiarly 
sly smile. When he returned carrying a few filled glasses, 
he said, " Herr Professor, in a room near by some of your 
jailers are sitting around a bowl of punch. I have just asked 
them whether they would not permit me to take some for a few 
friends of mine who have just arrived. They had no objection. 
Now, Herr Professor, let us drink your health first out of 
the bowl of your jailers." We found it difficult not to break 
out in loud laughter. Kinkel was now in his citizen's clothes, 
and his lacerated hands were washed and bandaged with hand- 
kerchiefs. He thanked his faithful friends with a few words 
which brought tears to their eyes. Then we jumped into Hen- 
sel's vehicle. The penitentiary officers were still singing and 
laughing around their punch bowl. 

We had agreed that our carriage should leave Spandau 
through the Potsdam gate which opens upon the road to Ham- 
burg, and then turn in a different direction in order to mislead 
the pursuit that was sure to follow. So we rattled at a fast trot 
through the gate, and this ruse succeeded so well that, as we 
learned later, we were really the next day, in accordance with 
the report of the guard at the gate, pursued in the direction 
of Hamburg. Before we reached the little town of Nauen 
we turned to the right on a field road and reached the Berlin 
Strelitz turnpike near the Sandkrug. Our bays made the best 
of their speed. 

Only when the keen night air touched his face, Kinkel 
seemed to come to a clear consciousness of what had happened. 
" I would like to hold your hand in mine," he said, ' but I 
cannot; my hands are too much torn." 

He then put his arm around me and pressed me once and 
again. I would not let him express his gratitude in words, but 
told him how the night before everything had been so well ar- 

[ 313 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
ranged, and how our plan had been crossed by an unfortunate 
accident, and what a mournful ride I had had in the same 
carriage only twenty-four hours before. 

' That was the most terrible night of my life," said Kin- 
kel. " After Brune had instructed me to hold myself ready, I 
waited for the appointed hour with the most confident expecta- 
tion. Before midnight I was up. I listened as only an ear 
practiced in long isolation can listen. Now and then I heard 
a distinct noise of steps in the corridors, but they would 
not approach. I heard the clocks outside strike the hours. 
When midnight was past the thought first rose in me : ' Is it pos- 
sible that this should fail? ' Minute after minute went by, and 
all remained quiet. Then I was seized by an anguish which I 
cannot describe. The perspiration dropped from my forehead. 
Until one o'clock I had still a little hope, but when even then 
Brune did not come I gave up everything for lost. The most 
gruesome pictures rose in my imagination. The whole design 
had surely been discovered. You were in the hands of the 
police and also imprisoned for many years. I saw myself a 
miserable wreck in convict's garb. My wife and my children 
perished in misery. I shook the rails in my cell like a madman. 
Then I dropped exhausted upon my straw bed. I believe I 
was nearly insane." 

"Well, and this night?" 

" Oh, this night," Kinkel exclaimed, " I could hardly trust 
my eyes and ears when Brune with a lantern in his hand came 
into my cell and whispered to me, ' Get up quickly, Herr Pro- 
fessor; now you shall get out.' That was an electric shock. 
In a moment I was on my feet, but do you know that to-night 
again everything was on the point of going wrong? " 

I listened eagerly, and again and again a cold shiver ran 
down my back as Kinkel proceeded with his story. Half an 

[314] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
hour before midnight Brune was in Kinkel's cell. This time 
he had found the keys in the locker and had opened with two of 
them the cell doors. After having called Kinkel up, he at- 
tempted to open, with a third key, the door in the wooden 
railing. He tried and tried, but in vain. The key did not fit. 
Afterwards it appeared that the key with which Brune tried 
to open the cell door belonged to the window shutters, but that 
one of the keys for the doors of the cell also opened the door 
of the wooden railing. Thus Brune had the true key in his 
hand without knowing it or without thinking of it in the excite- 
ment. So Kinkel stood on one and Brune on the other side of 
the wooden railing, baffled and for a moment utterly bewil- 
dered. Then Kinkel grasped with the strength of despair one 
of the wooden rails, trying to break it by throwing the whole 
weight of his body against it, but in vain. Brune worked hard 
with his sword to the same end, also in vain. Then he said: 
"Herr Professor, you shall get out to-night even if it costs 
me my life." He left the cell and in a minute returned with 
an ax in his hand. With a few vigorous blows two of the 
rails were cut loose. Using the ax as a lever he effected an 
opening which just permitted Kinkel's broad-shouldered body 
to pass through. But had not the blows of Brune's ax 
alarmed the whole house? The two listened with suspended 
breath. All remained quiet. In fact, Brune had been no less 
prudent than daring. Before he swung his ax he had care- 
fully closed the two thick doors of the cell. The sound of the 
blows which filled the interior of the cell was, as to the outside, 
very much deadened by the thick walls and by the heavy doors. 
They not only had not wakened any of the sleepers, but had 
not reached those that were awake, or if they did make any 
impression, it was as if the noise had come from the outside 

of the building. 

[315] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
Now Brune left the cell with Kinkel, the doors of which 
he again locked. Then they had to walk through corridors, up 
and down various stairways, and even to pass a night watch- 
man. By Brune's clever management they succeeded in doing 
this. At last they reached the loft under the roof and the 
dormer window, through which the dangerous ride through the 
air had to be undertaken. Kinkel confessed to me that he was 
seized with a dizzy horror when he looked down upon the 
street below and then upon the thin rope which was to bear 
him; but when he saw my sparkling signal, the meaning of 
which Brune explained to him in a whisper, he regained his 
composure and boldly swung out over the precipice. At once 
the tiles and bricks began to rain about his head, but none of 
them struck him, only the hands which at first had taken too 
high a hold on the rope and through which it had to glide, suf- 
fered grievously. That was, however, a slight wound for so 
hard a struggle and so great a victory. 

When Kinkel finished his narrative, Hensel took out of 
the hamper one of the bottles of precious Rhine wine that 
Kriiger had provided us with for our journey, and we 
drank to the health of the brave Brune, without whose reso- 
luteness and fidelity all our plans and labors would have come 
to nothing. It was a happy, enthusiastic moment, which made 
us almost forget that so long as we were on German soil the 
danger was not over, and our success not yet complete. 



rsie] 



CHAPTER XI 

AT a sharp trot we sped on through the night. I still hear 
Hensel's commanding call, " Boom up ! Boom up ! " as often 
as on the turnpike we reached a toll gate. Through Oranien- 
burg, Teschendorf, Lowenberg, we flew without stop, but 
when we approached the little town of Gransee, nearly thirty- 
five miles from Spandau, it became clear that our two good 
bays would soon break down unless we gave them rest and some 
refreshment. So we stopped at a wayside tavern, near Gransee, 
and fed them — then forward again. 

As daylight appeared I could for the first time look at 
Kinkel with leisure. How he was changed! He whom a little 
% more than a year ago I had known as a youthful man, the very 
picture of health and vigor! His closely clipped hair was 
now tinged with gray, the color of the face a dead yellow, 
the skin like parchment, the cheeks thin and flabby, the nose 
sharp, and the face deeply furrowed. If I had met him on the 
street unexpectedly I should scarcely have recognized him. 

" They have dealt hard with you," I said. 

" Yes, it was the highest time for me to breathe free air 
again. A year or two more of that kind of life and I should 
have been burned to ashes, devastated body and soul. Nobody 
who has not himself suffered it knows what solitary confine- 
ment means and the debasement of being treated like a com- 
mon criminal. But now," he added gayly, " now human life 
begins once more." 

And then he described in his humorous way how at that 
very moment in the penitentiary in Spandau they would be 

[317] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
discovering that Kinkel, like a bird, had escaped from his cell, 
and how one turnkey after another with a troubled face would 
run to the director and the whole gang of them would put 
their heads together and notify the higher authorities ; and how 
they would then examine the guards of the city gates, and 
how they would hear of a carriage that between twelve and 
one o'clock had rattled through the Potsdam gate, and how 
then a troop of mounted constables would be hurried after us 
in the direction of Nauen and Hamburg, while we were paying 
a visit to our friends in Mecklenburg. 

" I only wish," remarked Hensel anxiously, " that we 
could make that visit a little more quickly." The sun was up 
when we greeted the boundary pole of Mecklenburg. Even 
there we did not by an}? - means feel quite safe, although a little 
safer than on Prussian territory. The trot of our horses became 
slower and slower. One of them appeared utterly exhausted. 
So we had to stop at the nearest Mecklenburg inn, in Dannen- 
walde. There Hensel washed the horses with warm water, 
which helped a little, but only for a short time. In the town 
of Fiirstenberg we had to unharness them for a longer stop 
because they could go no farther, having put over fifty miles 
behind them. But at last we reached Strelitz safely, where in 
the person of Judge Petermann, a city magistrate, we had an 
enthusiastic friend and protector, who already on the preced- 
ing night had been on the road with one of the relay carriages. 

Petermann received us with so demonstrative a joy that I 
feared he would not refrain from proclaiming the happy event 
from the windows of his house to the passersby. In fact, he 
could not deny himself the pleasure of bringing in some 
friends. Soon we sat down to a plentiful meal, and with mer- 
rily clinking glasses we waited for another carriage and fresh 
horses. There we took a cordial leave of our friend Hensel. 

[318] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
His two fine bays had lain down as soon as they reached the 
stable, one of them, as I learned later, never to rise again. 
Honor to his memory! 

Petermann accompanied us on the further drive, which 
now went on with uninterrupted rapidity. In Neubrandenburg, 
as well as in Teterow, we changed horses, and by seven o'clock 
the next morning, the 8th of November, we arrived at the 
' White Cross Inn," on the Neubrandenburg turnpike near the 
city of Rostock. Petermann went at once to fetch our friend 
Moritz Wiggers, whose turn it now was to take the management 
of affairs. Without delay he sent us in a wagon, accompanied 
by a Rostock merchant by the name of Blume, to Warnemunde, 
a seaside resort on a fine harbor, where we were cared for in 
Wohlert's Hotel. Petermann, happy beyond measure, that his 
part of the adventure was so successfully accomplished, turned 
'back to Strelitz. On our journey we had accustomed ourselves to 
call Kinkel by the name of Kaiser and me by the name of Hen- 
sel, and these names we inscribed upon the hotel register. 

Wiggers had recommended Warnemunde to us as a place 
of patriarchal customs and conditions, where there existed 
police only in name and where the local authorities, if they 
should discover us, would make it their business to protect, 
rather than betray us. There, he thought, it would be safe to 
remain until a more secure asylum or a favorable opportunity 
to cross the sea could be found. From the shore of Warne- 
munde for the first time in my life I saw the sea. I had longed 
for that spectacle, but the first view of it was disappointing. 
The horizon appeared to me much narrower and the waves 
which rushed on white-capped, as the northeast wind drove 
them in, much smaller than I had pictured them in my imagina- 
tion. I was soon to make better acquaintance with the sea and 
to learn to look at it with greater respect and higher enjoyment, 

[319] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
However, we were little disposed to give ourselves to the con- 
templation of nature. Kinkel had spent two, and I three nights 
in a carriage on the highroad. We were extremely fatigued 
and in a few minutes lay sound asleep. 

The next day Wiggers returned with the news that there 
was only one brig on the roads, but that she was not ready to 
sail. A friend of his, Mr. Brockelmann, a merchant and manu- 
facturer, thought it safest to send us across the sea on one of 
his own ships and to shelter us in his own house until that ship 
could be started. Thus we left our hotel, and a Warnemiinde 
pilotboat carried us up the Warnow River. We landed near a 
little village, where Brockelmann awaited us with his carriage. 

We saw before us a stalwart man of about fifty years, with 
gray hair and whiskers, but with rosy complexion and youthful 
vivacity in expression and movement. He welcomed us with 
joyous cordiality, and after the first few minutes of our ac- 
quaintance, we were like old friends. In him we recognized a 
self-made man in the best sense of the term, a man who had 
carved his own fortune, who could look back with self-respect 
upon what he had accomplished and who found in his successes 
an inspiration for further endeavor and for an enterprising 
and self-sacrificing public spirit. His broad humanity, which 
recognized the right of everyone to a just estimation of his true 
value and his claim to a corresponding chance of advancement, 
had made him from his early youth a liberal, and after the 
revolution of 1848, a democrat. He had practically carried out 
his principles and theories as far as possible, and he was 
therefore widely known as a protector of the poor and op- 
pressed. But especially his employees, his working people, of 
whom there was a large number in his factories, revered and 
loved him as a father. When he offered us his house as an 
asylum he could well assure us that he had workingmen enough 

[320 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
who at his request would fight for us and in case of need hold 
possession of our asylum long enough to give us time for 
escape. However, it would not come to this, he said, as the 
arrival of such guests as " the Herren Kaiser and Hensel " in 
his house would attract no attention, and even if our secret were 
suspected by any of his people, there were no traitors among 
them. In short, he could vouch for everything. Thus we drove 
to his house, which was situated in a suburb of Rostock. 
There we had some days of rest and plenty. Brockelmann, 
his wife, his eldest daughter, her fiance, the merchant 
Schwartz, and a little circle of friends, overwhelmed us 
with the most lavish attentions. How can I describe the care 
with which the mistress of the house herself washed Kinkel's 
wounded hands and bandaged and nursed them! And the 
meals which, according to Mecklenburg notions of hospitality, 
were necessary! The indispensable first breakfast and second 
, breakfast and sometimes third breakfast, and the noon re- 
past, and the afternoon coffee with cake, and the suppers, and 
the " little something " before going to bed, and the night- 
caps, which succeeded one another at incredibly short inter- 
vals; and the evenings, during which Wiggers played to us 
Beethoven's sonatas with a masterly hand, reminding Kinkel 
of the musical language of his Johanna! And the occasional 
surprises when Brockelmann had the revolutionary hymn, the 
" Marseillaise," played by a brass band in the house ! 

With all this, however, the more serious side of our situa- 
tion was not forgotten. Brockelmann had ordered one of his 
own vessels, a little schooner of forty tons, which had proved 
a good sailer, to be prepared for us. The " Little Anna " — this 
was the name of the schooner — received a cargo of wheat for 
England, which was put on board as rapidly as possible, and 
Sunday, the 17th of November, was the day fixed for our 

[321] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
departure, if by that time the long-prevailing northeaster 
should have changed into a more favorable wind. 

In the meantime the news of Kinkel's flight had gone 
through all the newspapers and caused everywhere a great 
stir. Our friends in Rostock informed themselves with minute 
care of all that was printed and said and rumored about the 
matter. The " warrant of capture," which the Prussian Govern- 
ment had published in the newspapers concerning the " escaped 
convict," Kinkel, our friends brought to us at tea-time, and 
it was read aloud with all sorts of irreverent comments, amid 
great hilarity. Of the part I had in the liberation of Kinkel 
the authorities and the public knew at that time nothing. 
Especial pleasure we derived from the newspaper reports 
which announced Kinkel's arrival at several different places 
at the same time. The liberal Pastor Dulon in Bremen, follow- 
ing a true instinct, described in his journal with much detail 
when and how Kinkel had passed through Bremen and sailed 
for England. Some of my friends reported his arrival in 
Zurich and in Paris. One paper brought a circumstantial re- 
port of a banquet that had been tendered to Kinkel by the 
German refugees in Paris, and even the speech he had made on 
the occasion. Thus nothing remained untried to confuse the 
Prussian police and to mislead its searches. 

But there were also some alarm signals of a disquieting 
nature. Wiggers received on the 14th of November a letter, 
without signature, from the neighborhood of Strelitz in an 
unknown handwriting, as follows: ' Expedite as much as pos- 
sible the shipment of goods entrusted to you. There is danger 
in delay." Probably the authorities had discovered our tracks 
between Spandau and Strelitz, and were pursuing them fur- 
ther. Then on Friday, November 15, a stranger called upon 
Wiggers, who represented himself to be our friend, " Farmer 

[ 322 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
Hensel," and inquired whether Kinkel, whom he had taken in 
his carriage from Spandau to Strelitz, was still in Rostock. 
Wiggers had indeed heard us speak of him with expressions of 
the highest confidence, but he apprehended the stranger might 
not be Hensel himself, but a spy in disguise. So he feigned 
the utmost astonishment at the news that Kinkel was in Ros- 
tock, but promised to gather information, and to communicate 
the result to the stranger, whom he requested to call again the 
next day. The occurrence was at once reported to us, and the 
description given by Wiggers of the appearance of the man 
persuaded us that the stranger was the true Hensel, who, as 
he had said to Wiggers, had come to Rostock merely to quiet his 
anxiety about our safety. Kinkel and I wished very much to 
see him and to press once more the hand of our brave and faith- 
ful friend, but Wiggers, who had become seriously worried by 
the warning received from Strelitz, counseled the utmost cir- 
cumspection and promised us to transmit to Hensel, who had 
said that he was to remain in Rostock until the 18th, our warm- 
est greetings after we should have reached the open sea. 

Thus we found in spite of all agreeable surroundings 
considerable comfort in the report that the northeast wind 
had gone down; that the "Little Anna" was anchoring at 
Warnemunde, and that everything would be ready for our 
departure on the 17th of November. 

On a frosty Sunday morning we sailed, in the company 
of an armed escort, which our friends had composed of relia- 
ble men in sufficient numbers, as they believed, to resist a pos- 
sible attack by the police, in two boats across the bay to the 
anchorage of the " Little Anna." Arrived on board, Mr. 
Brockelmann gave the captain, who was not a little astonished 
at receiving a visit from so large a company, his instructions: 
You take these two gentlemen," he said, pointing to Kinkel 

[323] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
and myself, " with you to Newcastle. You pass Helsingoer 
without stopping, and pay the Sound dues on your return. In 
stress of weather you will beach the vessel on the Swedish 
shore rather than return to a German port. If the wind suits 
you better for another harbor than Newcastle on the English 
or Scottish coast, you will sail there. The important thing is 
that you reach England as quickly as possible. I shall remem- 
ber you if you carry out my orders punctually." The captain, 
whose name was Niemann, may have received these instruc- 
tions with some amazement, but he promised to do his best. 

Some of our friends remained with us until the steam tug 
hitched to the " Little Anna " had carried us a short distance 
into the open sea. Then came the leave-taking. As Wiggers 
tells in an elaborate description of the scene in a German peri- 
odical, Kinkel threw himself sobbing into his arms and said: " I 
do not know whether I shall rejoice at my rescue, or shall mourn 
that like a criminal and an outcast I have to flee my dear father- 
land!" Then our friends descended into the tug, and with 
grateful hearts we bade them farewell. They fired a salute 
with their pistols and steamed back to Warnemiinde, where, 
according to Wiggers, they celebrated the accomplished rescue 
with a joyous feast. 

Kinkel and I remained on the poop of our schooner and 
gazed after the little steamboat that carried our good friends 
away. Then our eyes rested upon the shore of the fatherland 
until the last vestige had disappeared in the dusk of the even- 
ing. In our halting conversation now and then the question 
would recur: " When shall we return? ' That a victorious up- 
rising of the people would call us back, we both hoped fer- 
vently. It was a hope born of ardent desire and nursed by 
fond illusions. What would we have answered the prophet 
who at that moment had told us that first I, but only after 

[324 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
eleven years, would again put my foot on German soil, and 
then not as a German, but as the Minister of the United States 
of America to Spain on my return to my new home, and that 
Kinkel would have to wait until, after the war between Prus- 
sia and Austria in 1866, the former Prince of Prussia and 
commander of the forces that had taken Kinkel prisoner near 
Rastatt, now king and president of the North-German Con- 
federation, would open to him once more, by an amnesty, the 
door of the Fatherland! 

We did not quit the deck until it was dark. The cabin of 
the schooner was very small. Its first aspect destroyed in me 
a fond imagining. I had until then only once seen a seagoing 
ship, a brig, which at the time when I attended the gymnasium 
had been brought from Holland up the Rhine and anchored 
near Cologne ; but I could see that ship only from the outside. 
My conception of the interior of the ship I had derived from 
novels and descriptions of maritime wars which I had read as 
a boy, and so the main cabin of a ship stood before my eyes 
as a spacious room well-fitted out with furniture and the walls 
decorated with trophies of muskets and pistols and cutlasses. 
Of all this there was nothing in the cabin of the " Little Anna." 
It measured hardly more than eight feet between the two 
berths, one on each side, and in the other direction hardlv more 
than six. It was so low that Kinkel, standing upright, touched 
the ceiling with his head. In the center there was a little table 
screwed to the floor, and behind it a small sofa covered with 
black haircloth; just large enough to hold Kinkel and me, 
sitting close together. Above the table was suspended a lamp 
which during the night faintly illumined the room. The berths, 
which had been hastily prepared for us, were a foot or two 
above the floor and open, so that when we were in bed we 
could see one another. These arrangements appeared to be 

[325 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
very different from those of the proud East India ships, or 
of the frigates which I had found so enticingly described in 
my books; but when I considered that this was after all an 
unusually small trading schooner, I found that they were as 
practical as they were simple. 

Captain Niemann, who had so unexpectedly been stirred 
up from his winter's rest by the sudden order of his master, 
probably did not know at first what to think of his two remark- 
able guests on the " Little Anna." One of our friends, who 
had accompanied us on board, had by some hint given him rea- 
son to believe that we were bankrupt merchants forced by 
unfortunate circumstances to run away from home; but the 
skipper told us afterwards he could not make his theory agree 
with the manifestations of respect and of warm, aye, even 
enthusiastic, attachment with which our friends had treated us. 
However, he had nothing to do but to execute orders received. 
In case of necessity he would really have run his vessel on 
shore at the risk of losing her. In the meantime he took very 
good care of us. The captain had a crew of seven men : a mate, 
a cook, a boy, and four seamen. Frau Brockelmann had amply 
provided us with all sorts of delicacies, foreseeing that the 
bill of fare of the schooner's kitchen would be very limited. 

At first the sea voyage was agreeable enough. A gentle 
breeze filled the sails, and the ship glided along pleasantly. 
But as morning dawned, wind and sea became more lively 
and Kinkel reported himself seasick. The wind increased, the 
sea ran higher, and Kinkel grew more and more miserable as 
the day progressed. He gathered himself up to go on deck, 
but soon returned to his berth. I tried to lift him up, but 
in vain. After a few hours of acute suffering he became quite 
desperate in his torment and he felt that he was going to die. 
He had a mind to tell the captain to carry him to the nearest 

[ 326 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
port. His agony seemed to him intolerable. Had he escaped 
from prison to die such a wretched death? It is recognized 
as one of the peculiarities of seasickness that those who do not 
suffer from it do not appreciate the sufferings of those who 
do, and that the sufferer considers the indifference of the well 
person as especially hardhearted and exasperating. That was 
the case with us. I felt myself uncommonly well. The more 
the " Little Anna " bobbed up and down in the waves, the 
higher rose my spirits. I felt an inordinate appetite which 
did the fullest justice to the accomplishments of our cook. 
This joyous feeling I could not entirely conceal from Kinkel, 
although I deplored very sincerely his sufferings, which 
probably were aggravated through the nervous condition re- 
sulting from his long imprisonment. I thought I could raise 
him up by making fun of his fear of immediate death, but 
that would not do at all, as Kinkel believed in all seriousness 
that his life was in danger. My jokes sounded to him like un- 
feeling recklessness, and I had soon to change my tone in 
order to cheer him. 

In this condition we passed Helsingoer, the toll-gate of 
the Sound dues, and with it the last place in which our liberty 
might possibly have been in danger, and so we entered the 
Kattegat. The sea had been wild enough in the Sound, but in 
the Kattegat it was much wilder. The winds seemed to blow 
alternately from all points of the compass, and we cruised two 
days between the Skagen, the projecting headland of Den- 
mark, and the high rocks of Sweden and Norway, until we 
reached the more spacious basin of the Skagerack. But there 
too, and as we at last entered the open North Sea, the " dirty 
weather," as our sailors called it, continued without change. 
At times the wind grew so violent that Captain Niemann 
recognized it as a real gale. Like a nutshell x the ' Little 

[327] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
Anna " jumped up and down on the angry billows. The sea 
constantly washed the deck, where I kept myself all the time 
that Kinkel did not need me below; and in order not to be 
washed overboard, I had the mate bind me fast to the main- 
mast. So I gained a vivid impression of the constantly chang- 
ing grandeur of the sea, which at the first view from Warne- 
miinde had failed to impress me. Now I was fascinated by the 
sensation to such a degree that I could hardly tear myself 
away, and every minute I had to stay below appeared to me 
like an irretrievable loss. 

Kinkel continued seasick several days, but he gradually 
became aware of how much seasickness a man can endure with- 
out fatal result. By degrees his suffering diminished; he went 
on deck with me and began to appreciate the poetry of the sea 
voyage and then forgave me that I had refused to believe in 
the deadly character of the malady. The bad weather continued 
without interruption ten days and nights. At times the fury 
of the elements made cooking impossible. The most that could 
be done was to prepare some coffee, and beyond that we lived 
on biscuits, cold meats and herring, but we remained in good 
spirits and began to enjoy the humor of our situation. Two 
things impressed me especially — the one repeated itself every 
morning during the stormy time: Shortly after daybreak the 
mate regularly came to the cabin to bring us our coffee while 
we were still lying in our berths. When the sea thundered fu- 
riously against the sides of the ship and crashed down on the 
deck so that we could hardly hear our own words, and when 
then the " Little Anna " bounced up and down and rolled to 
and fro, like a crazy thing, so that we had to hold on to some- 
thing in order not to be tumbled out of our berths, the brave 
seaman stood there in a dripping suit of oilskin, spread his 
legs far apart, held on with one hand to the little table, and 

[328] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
balanced in the other, with astonishing skill, a bowl of coffee 
without spilling a drop, and screamed at us to the utmost of 
his power to make us understand the surprising intel- 
ligence that the weather was still bad and we could not 
expect to have any cooking done. We had therefore to be sat- 
isfied with what he then offered us. Thirty years later, when 
I was Secretary of the Interior in the government of the 
United States, I visited, during the presidential campaign of 
1880, the town of Rondout on the Hudson, where I had to 
deliver a speech. After the meeting I crossed the river on a 
ferryboat in order to take the railroad train to New York 
at the station of Rhinebeck opposite. In the dusk of the even- 
ing a man approached me on the ferryboat and spoke to me 
in German. " Excuse me," he said, " that I address you. I 
should like to know whether you recognize me." 

I regretted not being able to do so. 

" Do you not remember," he asked, " the mate on the ' Lit- 
tle Anna,' Captain Niemann, on which you and Professor 
Kinkel, in November, 1850, sailed from Rostock to England? ' 
'What!' I exclaimed, "do I remember the mate who 
every morning stood in the cabin with his bowl of coffee and 
executed such wonderful dances? Yes." 

" And you always made such funny remarks about it 
which set me laughing, if I could understand them in the ter- 
rible noise. That mate was I." 

I was much rejoiced, and we shook hands vigorously. I 
asked how he was doing and he replied, " Very well, indeed." 

I invited him to visit me in Washington, which he promised 
to do. I should have been glad to continue the conversation 
longer, but in the meantime we had reached the eastern bank 
of the Hudson. My railroad train stood ready and in a few 
minutes I was on the way to New York. The mate did not 

[329] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
keep his promise to visit me in Washington and I have never 
seen him again. 

The other picture still present to my mind was more serious 
in its involuntary ludicrousness. While we were driven about on 
the North Sea by violent gales the sky was constantly covered 
with dense clouds, so that no regular observation could be 
had to determine where we were. The captain indeed endeav- 
ored to ascertain our whereabouts as well as he could by the 
so-called dead reckoning; but after we had been so going on 
for several days he declared to us quite frankly that he had 
only a very vague idea of our latitude and longitude. Now 
we saw him frequently in the cabin sitting on the little sofa 
behind the table with his head bent thoughtfully over his chart, 
and as the matter was important to us, too, we tried to help 
him in his calculations. Kinkel, after he had overcome the 
seasickness, and myself spent almost the whole day on deck 
in spite of the storm, and as we had observed the drifting 
of the vessel from its true course we formed an opinion on 
that matter, to which the captain listened with great ap- 
parent respect; and when during the night he sat under the 
lamp over his chart, Kinkel and I stuck our heads out of our 
berths, holding fast to some object so that we could not fall 
out, and looking at the chart in this position, discussed 
with the captain the question of latitude and longitude, of the 
force of the wind, of the current, of the water, and so on. 
Finally we would agree upon some point at which the ship 
ought to be at that time, and that point was then solemnly 
marked with a pencil on the chart. Then the " navigation 
council," as we called it, adjourned. The captain mounted 
again to the deck and Kinkel and I crept back into our berths 
to sleep. 

On the tenth day of our voyage the sky cleared at last, 

[330] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
and the first actual observation showed that our calculations 
had not been so very wrong and that three or four days would 
bring us to the English coast. So we headed for the port of 
Newcastle. Kinkel had in the meantime recovered all his bright 
humor, and would not permit me to remind him of his out- 
breaks of seasick despair. We were of good cheer, but rejoiced 
with our whole hearts when we saw the first strip of land rising 
above the horizon. Then the wind turned toward the south 
and the captain declared that we would have to cruise a consid- 
erable time against it in order to reach the port of Newcastle. 
The navigation council therefore met once more and resolved 
to steer in a northerly direction toward Leith, the harbor of 
Edinburgh. This was done, and the next evening we saw the 
mighty rocks that guard the entrance of that port. Then the 
wind suddenly died away and our sails flapped. Kinkel and I 
quoted for our consolation various verses from Homer: how 
the angry gods prevented the glorious sufferer Odysseus, by 
the most malicious tricks, from reaching his beloved home, 
Ithaca, but how at last, while he was asleep, he was wafted by 
gentle breezes to the hospitable shores of his island. And so 
it happened to us. After we had gone to bed in a somewhat 
surly state of mind, a light wind arose that carried us with the 
most gentle movement toward the long-wished-for port, and 
when we awoke next morning the "Little Anna" lay at anchor. 
Now the good captain, Niemann, learned for the first 
time what kind of passengers he had carried across the North 
Sea under the names of Kaiser and Hensel. He confessed to 
us that the matter had appeared to him from the beginning 
quite suspicious, but he expressed in the heartiest manner his 
joy that, even ignorantly, he had contributed his part to Kin- 
kel's liberation. Kinkel and I were impatient to get to land. 
Fortunately Mr. Brockelmann had not only given us letters 

[331] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
to his correspondent in Newcastle, but also to a merchant in 
Leith, by the name of McLaren. These letters we wished to 
present at once, but the captain reminded us that the day was 
Sunday, on which a Scottish merchant would certainly not be 
found in his counting-house, and he did not know how we 
could find his residence. This difficulty we recognized. How- 
ever, we were heartily tired of the " Little Anna," with its 
narrow cabin and its many smells. We resolved, therefore, to 
make our toilet and to go ashore, in order at least to take a 
look at Edinburgh. We also hoped to find shelter in some 
hotel. It was a clear, sunny winter morning. What a delight 
as we ascended the main street of Leith to feel that we had 
at last firm ground under our feet again and that we could 
look everyone in the face as free men ! At last — all danger past, 
no more pursuit, a new life ahead ! It was glorious. We felt like 
shouting and dancing, but bethought ourselves of the prob- 
able effect such conduct would have on the natives. We 
wandered from the harbor up into the streets of Edin- 
burgh. These streets had on their Sunday look. All the shops 
closed; not a vehicle breaking the stillness. The people walked 
silently to church. We soon noticed that many of the passersby 
looked at us with an air of surprise and curiosity, and before 
long a troop of boys collected around us and pursued us with 
derisive laughter. We looked at one another and became aware 
that our appearance contrasted strangely indeed with that of 
the well-dressed church-goers. Kinkel had on his big bearskin 
overcoat, which reached down to his feet; his beard, which he 
had permitted to grow, looked like a rough stubblefield — and 
at that time a full beard was, in Scotland, regarded as an im- 
possibility among respectable people. On his head he wore a 
cap like that of a Prussian forester. Regulation hats we did 
not possess. I was in a long brown overcoat with wide sleeves 

[332] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARE SCHURZ 
and a hood lined with light blue eloth, a garment which in 
Switzerland a tailor had evolved from my large soldier's cape. 
We suddenly became conscious of making very startling 
figures on a Sunday morning on the streets of this Scottish 
capital, and were no longer surprised at the astonishment of 
the sober church-goers and the mockery of the boys. However, 
there we were. We could make no change, and so sauntered 
on without troubling ourselves about the feelings of the others. 
We looked up the celebrated Walter Scott monument and 
several of the famous edifices, and then went on and up to the 
castle, where the first view of soldiers in the splendid Scottish 
Highland uniform burst upon us. We enjoyed to our hearts' 
content the aspect of the city and its wonderfully picturesque 
surroundings. In short, we found Edinburgh beautiful beyond 
compare. In the meantime it had become high noon, and we 
began to feel that the contemplation of the most magnificent 
view does not satisfy the stomach. The imperious desire for 
a solid meal moved us to descend from the castle and to look 
about for a hotel, or at least a restaurant. But in vain. From 
the outside some buildings looked like public houses, but no- 
where an open door. One or two we tried to enter, but without 
success. Now our utter ignorance of the English language be- 
came very embarrassing. Of words of English sound we knew 
on ly two—" beefsteak " and " sherry." We addressed some of 
the passersby in German and also in French, but they all re- 
sponded after a long and astonished stare in an idiom entirely 
unintelligible to us, although we both had remarked that when 
we heard these Scottish people talk at a distance, their language 
sounded very much like German. When we pronounced our 
two English words, " beefsteak " and " sherry," those whom we 
addressed pointed toward the harbor. Our situation became 
more and more precarious, as the sun was setting. We were 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
very tired from our long wanderings, and hunger began to 
be tormenting. Nothing seemed to remain to us but to return 
to the " Little Anna." 

So we walked back to the harbor. Unexpectedly we came 
upon a large house in the main street of Leith, the front of 
which bore the inscription " Black Bull Hotel," and an open 
door. We entered at once, and ascended a flight of stairs to the 
upper story. There we reached a spacious hall with several 
doors, one of which was ajar. We looked through it into a 
little parlor lighted by an open coal fire. Without hesitation we 
entered, sat down in comfortable armchairs near the fireplace, 
pulled the bell-rope and waited for further dispensations of 
fate. Soon there appeared in the door a man in the dress of 
a waiter, with a napkin under his arm. When he saw the two 
strange figures sitting near the fireplace, he started and stood 
a moment, mute and immovable, with staring eyes and open 
mouth. We could not keep from laughing and when we 
laughed, he too smiled, but with a somewhat doubtful expres- 
sion. Then we pronounced our two English words : " Beef- 
steak, sherry! " The waiter stammered an unintelligible reply. 
He then moved back toward the door and disappeared. Soon 
he returned with another man, also a waiter. Both stared at 
us and exchanged a few words between themselves. We 
laughed and they smiled. Then one of them said something in 
English which sounded like a question. Again we spoke our 
two words — beefsteak and sherry. Thereupon both nodded 
and both left the room. After a little while a third man ap- 
peared, who wore a double-breasted coat — evidently the land- 
lord. He examined our appearance with a knowing look and 
talked to us in a friendly tone. Again we repeated our speech 
about beefsteak and sherry and tried to signify by gestures 
that we were hungry. At the same time Kinkel had the fortu- 

[334] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
nate idea of putting his hand in his pocket and taking out a 
few gold pieces, which he showed to the landlord on his open 
palm. The landlord smiled still more, made a little bow, and 
took himself away. 

After a while the waiter whom we had first seen set the 
table in fine style. Now we sat down at the hospitable board. 
Thereupon the waiter lifted the silver cover from the soup tu- 
reen he had brought in, with a mighty swing, pointed a fore- 
finger of his other hand into the open dish, and said slowly and 
emphatically, seeming to give a dab to the contents of the tu- 
reen with each syllable, " ox — tail — soup." Then he looked at us 
triumphantly and stepped behind Kinkel's chair. This was my 
first lesson in English. Judging from the similarity with Ger- 
man w r ords, we could well imagine what the words " ox " and 
" soup " signified, but the meaning of the word " tail " became 
clear to us only when we saw the contents of the tureen on our 
plates. We found the soup delicious, and thus our English 
vocabulary had been enriched by a valuable substantive. The 
landlord had been sensible enough not to confine himself to 
beefsteak and sherry in the execution of the desire we ex- 
pressed, but to give us a complete dinner, to which, after our 
long sea voyage and the Sunday walk in the Scottish capital, 
we did full justice. 

By all sorts of ingenious gestures we made our landlord 
understand that we wanted paper and ink and pens, and that 
we would then wish to go to bed. All our requests were under- 
stood and complied with. We now added postscripts to the 
letters, which we had written to our families during the last 
days of our voyage on the " Little Anna," giving further news 
of our happy arrival on British soil. Kinkel invited his wife 
to meet him in Paris, and then wrote a long letter to my parents, 
in which he said to them many kind things about me. 

[335] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 

After this was done the waiter conducted us into a spa- 
cious sleeping apartment with two beds, the enormous size of 
which astonished us. The next morning we bade farewell to 
our kind host, grateful to him for having tolerated in his house 
two such uncanny looking guests, without luggage and with 
a vocabulary of only two English words. 

Now we called at the counting-house of Mr. McLaren, 
in whom we found a very pleasant and polite gentleman, speak- 
ing German fluently. Letters from Mr. Brockelmann had told 
him everything about Kinkel and myself ; he therefore greeted 
us with much cordiality, insisted on having our luggage taken 
from the " Little Anna " to his residence, and upon devoting 
himself entirely to us so long as we might choose to remain 
in Edinburgh. In McLaren's counting house we took leave of 
the good Captain Niemann. I have never seen him again, but 
many years afterwards I learned that he had perished on the 
North Sea in a heavy winter gale. 

After having bought some presentable clothing and de- 
cent hats, thus acquiring an appearance similar to that of other 
men, we accepted Mr. McLaren's invitation to see Holyrood 
and to dine at his house, whereupon we took the night train 
for London. 

There we were accredited by Brockelmann to the banking 
house of Hambro & Son. The chief of the house placed one 
of his clerks at our disposal, a young gentleman from Frank- 
furt, Mr. Verhuven, who during our sojourn in London was 
to devote his whole time to us. He was an exceedingly agree- 
able companion, and with him we hurried during several days 
from morning until night from place to place to see the great 
sights of London. In this way we missed the many visitors 
who left their cards at our hotel, the " London Coffee House." 
Among these we found that of Charles Dickens. His ac- 

[336] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
quaintance we should have been especially proud to make, but 
to our great regret we did not find him at home when we 
returned his visit. 

In those days I received the first distinct impression of 
the English language, an impression, which now, after long 
acquaintance with it, I can hardly explain to myself. 

The celebrated tragedian Macready was playing several 
Shakespearian parts in one of the London theaters. We saw 
him in " Macbeth " and " Henry VIII." Although I did not 
understand the spoken words, I was sufficiently conversant with 
those dramas to follow the dialogue, but I had hardly any en- 
joyment of it, as the impure vowels and the many sibilants, 
the hissing consonants, in fact, the whole sound and cadence 
of the English language, fell upon my ear so unmusically, so 
gratingly, that I thought it a language that I would never 
be able to learn. And, indeed, this disagreeable first impres- 
sion long prevented me from taking the study of English 
seriously in hand. 

After a few days of overfatiguing pleasure we started 
for Paris. To witness the meeting of Kinkel and his wife, after 
so long and so painful a separation, was hardly less delight- 
ful to me than it was to them. But with this delight our ar- 
rival in Paris imposed upon me also a heavy burden, which 
consisted in sudden " fame." Although I had received in 
Rostock, in Edinburgh, and in London, in small circles of 
friends, praise of the warmest kind, I was not a little astonished 
and embarrassed when I learned in Paris of the sensation 
created by the liberation of Kinkel. While Kinkel and I had 
been crossing the North Sea in the cabin of the " Little Anna," 
holding navigation councils with Captain Niemann, it had 
become generally known that I, a student of the university of 
Bonn, had taken a somewhat important part in that affair. The 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
details of it were of course still unknown to the general public, 
but that sort of mystery is notoriously favorable to the formation 
of legends, and the Liberal newspapers in Germany had vied 
with one another in romantic stories about the adventure. The 
favorite and most accredited of those fables represented me 
like Blondel before the dungeons of Richard Cceur de Lion, 
attracting the attention of the imprisoned friend, not indeed 
with the lute of a troubadour, but in my case with a barrel 
organ, and thus detecting the window of his cell, and then 
effecting his escape in a marvelous way. Another myth 
brought me in communication with a Prussian princess, who, in 
a mysterious, and to herself very perilous, manner, had ad- 
vanced my undertaking. Several newspapers put before their 
readers my biography, which consisted in great part of fan- 
tastic inventions, inasmuch as there was but little to say 
of my young life. I even became the subject of poetic effu- 
sions, which celebrated me in all sorts of sentimental exaggera- 
tion. My parents, as they afterwards wrote me, were fairly 
flooded with congratulations, which in great part came from 
persons entirely unknown to them. 

Of course, the praise I received from my parents and the 
gratitude expressed by Frau Kinkel and her children were a 
real and a great satisfaction to me, but the extravagances 
which I had to read in German papers and to hear in the con- 
stantly extending circle of our acquaintance in Paris, dis- 
quieted me seriously. What I had done had appeared to me 
as nothing so extraordinary as to merit all this ado. Then 
there was also constantly present to my mind the thought, 
that without the help of a group of faithful friends, and 
especially without Brune's bold resolution at the decisive 
moment, all my efforts would have been in vain. And of 
Brune, who in those days was subject to a sharp and dan- 

[338] 




A MYTHICAL PORTRAIT OF SCHVRZ 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
gerous investigation, I could not speak without seriously 
compromising him. Thus I felt in submitting to praise as one 
who accepts credit for some things, at least, done by others, 
and this feeling was in a high degree painful to me. Moreover, 
in every company in which I showed myself I was asked time 
and again: " How did you succeed in carrying out this bold 
stroke? Tell us." Inasmuch as I could not tell the whole 
truth, I preferred to tell nothing. New legends were invented 
which if possible were still more fantastic than the old ones. 
This was so oppressive to me that I became very much averse 
to going into society, and I fear that I sometimes repelled those 
who came to me and pressed me with questions in an almost 
unfriendly manner. 

To bring the narrative of this episode to a conclusion, I 
must add something about the further fortunes of those who 
cooperated with me in the Kinkel rescue. On the day after 
Kinkel's escape from Spandau, suspicion fell at once upon 
Brune. He was forthwith arrested and subjected to close 
examination. At first nothing could be proved against him; 
but then, so it was reported, they placed with him in his cell 
a detective whom he did not suspect and to whom in a careless 
way he confided his story. He was thereupon tried and con- 
demned to three years' imprisonment. After he had served his 
term he removed with his family to his old home in Westphalia, 
where, with the money he had received from me, and which 
had not been discovered, he could comfortably live with his 
family, and where he enjoyed the respect of his neighbors. 
When in 1888 I visited Germany I was informed by a friend 
of Brune's, that Brune was at the time a janitor in a great 
iron-works in Westphalia, that he was doing well, although he 
began to feel the infirmities of old age, and that he would 
like to know something about me. I answered at once, giving 

[339] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
him all the desired information about myself, and asked him 
for his photograph. The same friend wrote again that my 
letter had given Brune much pleasure, but that he was in his 
old age still more stubborn than he had been before, that he 
had always refused to be photographed, and that he even now 
could not be moved to do it. I desired much to see him again 
and had already made arrangements for the journey when, 
to my intense regret, uncontrollable circumstances prevented 
it. In 1891 I received in America a letter from B rune's daugh- 
ter in which she informed me of the death of her brave father. 
My friends in Spandau had rejoiced so much at the suc- 
cess of our enterprise that they could not conceal their joy; 
and so Kriiger was involved in the investigation and was 
brought to trial. It has been reported that he willingly con- 
fessed the reception he had accorded to me in his hotel, remark- 
ing at the same time that it was his business as a hotel-keeper 
to open his house to all decently appearing strangers who 
could pay their bills; that he could not always investigate 
who those strangers might be, and what were their circum- 
stances and their intentions. For instance: immediately after 
the revolution in Berlin on the 18th of March, 1848, a very 
stately looking gentleman with some friends had arrived in a 
carriage at the door of his inn. Those gentlemen had been in 
great excitement and hurry, and he had noticed several ex- 
traordinary things in their conduct. In great haste they had de- 
parted, as he had afterwards heard, for England. It had not 
occurred to him for a single moment to deny to them as un- 
known people the hospitality of his house. Only later he had 
been informed that the most distinguished looking of these gen- 
tlemen had been His Royal Highness, the Prince of Prussia 
(later Emperor William I.). This narrative, recounted with 
the quiet smile peculiar to Kriiger, is said to have put the au- 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
dience present at the trial into the gayest humor, which even 
the court could not entirely resist. Kriiger was pronounced not 
guilty, continued to live quietly in Spandau, and died in the 
seventies, much esteemed and mourned hy all his fellow- 
citizens. 

Poritz, Leddihn, and Hensel also were acquitted, there 
being no conclusive proof against them. Poritz and Hensel 
died not many years afterwards. I saw Leddihn again in 1888 
in Berlin. He had been living for several years in the capital, 
was a well-to-do citizen and a member of the city council. Three 
years afterwards the newspapers reported his death. 

It is remarkable how the memory of that adventure has 
remained alive in various parts of Germany. Hardly a year 
has passed since 1850 without bringing me in newspaper arti- 
cles or letters new versions of the old story, some of them 
extremely fantastic. When early in this century the peniten- 
tiary building in Spandau in which Kinkel had been impris- 
oned was taken down to make room for another structure, 
some citizens of Spandau sent me a photograph of it, showing 
the part of the building from which Kinkel escaped, Kinkel's 
cell, and his and my portrait, taken from a daguerreotype 
made in Paris, in December, 1850. In January, 1903, nearly 
fifty-three years after our drive from Spandau to Rostock, I 
received a pictorial postal card signed by a member of the 
German Reichstag and several other gentlemen, who sent me 
cordial greetings and a picture of the ' White Cross Inn," 
near Rostock, marked " Kinkel's Corner," where we had 
stopped in our flight, and where the room in which we took an 
early breakfast still seems to be pointed out to guests. 



[341] 



CHAPTER XII 

1 HE Kinkel family resolved to settle down in England. 
Kinkel occupied himself for a little while with the study 
of the most important architecture, picture galleries, and other 
art collections in Paris, and then left for London. I preferred 
to stay in Paris for a while, partly because I hoped there to find 
special facilities for continuing my favorite studies, partly for 
the reason that Paris was regarded as the great focus of liberal 
movements on the continent, and I believed it was the most 
convenient point for one wishing to work as a newspaper cor- 
respondent. Thus we parted. 

Now I had to begin an orderly method of life and active 
self-support. My journalistic connections in Germany were 
quickly resumed, and I found that I could earn 180 francs a 
month by letter-writing for newspapers. I resolved to limit my 
regular expenses to 100 francs a month, and thus to lay by a 
little reserve for emergencies. This presupposed a careful econ- 
omy, but I soon learned with how little money a person may 
decently get along in Paris. This school of economy has always 
remained useful to me. I shared the quarters of my friend, 
Strodtmann, who had already been in Paris for some time and 
who occupied a spacious room in a hotel garni in the Faubourg 
Montmartre. But this common housekeeping did not last long. 
Strodtmann was not able to preserve order among his things, 
and as I, too, had my weaknesses in that direction, our room, 
which served at the same time as a living and sleeping apart- 
ment, often presented the picture of most wonderful confusion. 
It is an old experience, that a person who is not himself very 
orderly finds the disorderliness of another sometimes quite un- 

[ 342 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURX 
endurable. So it was with us. Of course it appeared to me that 
Strodtmann was the greater sinner, and in this I was not alto- 
gether wrong. He was somewhat of a gourmet; he would study 
the delicacies exposed in the show-windows of restaurants with 
great enthusiasm and discernment, and he imagined that he him- 
self could prepare fine dishes. He therefore made on our grate- 
fire all sorts of experiments in roasting and frying and filled 
the room with very unwelcome odors. He insisted also on pre- 
paring our coffee, for he was sure that he knew much better 
to do that than I or anybody else. To this assumption I should 
have offered no resistance whatever; but as he handled the 
burning alcohol of his machine very carelessly it happened 
that he set on fire papers and clothes that were lying around 
everywhere, and finally he burnt a big hole into the most valu- 
able article of my wardrobe, namely, that large cloak with the 
hood, belonging to my Baden officer's period. We laughed 
together about his awkwardness, but after this catastrophe we 
agreed in the most amicable spirit that there was not room 
enough in one apartment for two persons as disorderly as our- 
selves. I therefore rented a room on the Quai Saint-Michel, 
No. 17, and Strodtmann settled down in the Latin Quarter 
in my neighborhood. 

The house No. 17 Quai Saint-Michel was kept by a widow, 
Mme. Petit, and her daughters, two unmarried ladies no longer 
young. The house was in all things decent, respectable, and 
strictly regulated. In this regard it distinguished itself advanta- 
geously from most of the hotel garnis in the Latin Quarter. 
Those of Mme. Petit's tenants whose conduct was especially 
correct were rewarded with invitations, from time to time, to 
take tea in her little salon, where the presence of the two faded 
daughters and some friends of the family created an atmosphere 
of extraordinary dullness. After having gone through that 

[343] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
experience once we avoided a repetition. My room in the house 
was, according to my notions, quite comfortable. To be sure, 
the windows did not open on the side of the Seine, but they 
looked into a narrow and dirty side street. In order to reach 
my room I had to go up several stairs and to go down several 
other stairs, and to wander through a long, dark corridor and 
to turn various corners; but that did not disturb me. It 
was rather spacious, had a floor of red tiles, upon which there 
were a few diminutive pieces of carpet, several chairs fit for use, 
a round table, a fireplace, a wardrobe for my clothes, and even 
a piano, which was indeed very old and bad, but might have 
been worse. My bed stood in an alcove, and by means of chintz 
curtains I could hide it from the gaze of visitors, so that my 
room looked not like a bedchamber, but like a little salon, 
which I was quite proud of. For this dwelling I had 
to pay a rent of thirty francs a month, a sum rather high 
for me; but I thought that the character of the house 
would otherwise help me to save. My first breakfast con- 
sisted of a cup of coffee, which I prepared myself, or a glass 
of wine and a piece of bread, sometimes with butter. After 
having worked at my writing-table until noon I took a second 
breakfast or lunch that never was to exceed one-half franc in 
cost, in some restaurant of the Latin Quarter, and in the even- 
ing I dined in an eating-house kept in the Rue Saint-Germain 
l'Auxerois near the Louvre, that was kept by a socialistic 
association of cooks, the Association Fraternelle des Cuisiniers 
reunis. Cooks, waiters, and guests addressed one another ac- 
cording to the model of the French Revolution, " Citoyen," and 
this pride of civic equality showed itself also in the circum- 
stance that the citoyen-waiter accepted no tip from the citoyen* 
guest. These citoyens furnished for one franc a very simple 
but very substantial and good meal, including even a " confi- 

[344] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
ture " as a dessert and a glass of wine. The company was 
mixed, but this made it easier for us to imagine ourselves during 
the meal as living in the ideal state of general fraternity. 

Other expenses, of laundry and of an occasional fire in my 
room, brought the amount of the whole budget to not quite 
three francs a day, less than sixty cents in American money, or 
ninety to ninety-three francs a month. I could permit myself 
even some luxuries : the purchase of a few books, some of which 
are still in my possesion; also occasional tickets for the par- 
terre in the Odeon or in a Faubourg theatre; now and then a 
cup of coffee on the Boulevard and — only now and then, to be 
sure — I C ould afford to see Rachel at the Theatre Francais. 
Thus I managed to incur no debts, to save a small reserve, to 
be obliged to nobody for anything, and to feel myself quite 
independent and comfortable. 

Of course I could not, under such circumstances, indulge 
in expensive social enjoyments. Aside from an occasional visit 
to the salon of the Countess d'Agoult, the well-known friend of 
Franz Liszt, my intercourse remained mainly confined to Ger- 
man exiles, some students and young artists who pursued their 
studies in Paris, and also some young Frenchmen who attended 
lectures at the Sorbonne or other institutions of learning, and 
in this circle I found very agreeable companions. We had 
every week a "musical evening"; sometimes in my room, in 
which young musicians — among them Reinecke, who after- 
wards became the famous director of the well-known ' Ge- 
wandhaus Concerts" in Leipzig— reviewed the most recent 
composers, and now and then produced their own compositions, 
while I and others served as an enthusiastic public. On such 
occasions we used to drink a punch which, for reasons of econ- 
omy, left nothing to be desired in point of weakness. 

In this circle my good comrade, Adolph Strodtmann, was 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
a general favorite. He had at that time plunged deep into the 
socialistic poetry of that period, in which he saw a promising 
symptom of a new mental and moral revival of the human race. 
Some French poems of that kind he translated with extraordi- 
nary skill into sonorous German verse, which he read to us at 
our social meetings to our great delight. He was also a gener- 
ous listener, and although very deaf, professed great interest 
in our musical performances, giving his sometimes startling 
judgment in a thundering voice. We all loved him for his high 
enthusiasms, his ardent sympathies, the frank honesty of his 
nature and the robust ingenuousness with which he promul- 
gated his occasionally very eccentric opinions of men and 
things. At times his oddities afforded us much amusement, 
which he good-naturedly shared, frequently laughing loudest 
with childlike astonishment at the queer exhibitions he had made 
of himself. He might well have served as the original to many 
caricatures of the " absent-minded professor," who is a favor- 
ite subject of funny pictures in German periodicals. 

Now and then he was seen on the street smoking a long 
German student's pipe, as he had done in Bonn. In Paris the 
passersby would stand still with amazement when they beheld 
so unaccustomed an apparition, and soon he was known in the 
Latin Quarter as " l'homme a la longue pipe." One day he 
came into my room with a hairbrush under his arm, and when 
I asked him, " Strodtmann, what are you carrying there? " he 
looked at the thing at first with great surprise, and then laughed 
boisterously and said, with his loud voice, " Why, this is my 
hairbrush. I thought it was a book from which I wished to 
read to you." Another time when he visited me I noticed that 
his face bore the expression of extraordinary seriousness, if not 
trouble. " I have only one pair of boots," he said; " one of the 
boots is still pretty good, but the other, you see " — and here he 

[346] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
pointed to his right foot — " the other is bursting in the seaihs. 
Have you not a boot that you can lend me? " Indeed, I possessed 
two pairs, and it so happened that of one pair one boot was a 
little damaged and the other in a perfectly serviceable condition. 
This sound boot I gladly put at Strodtmann's disposal. When 
we undertook to make the exchange we noticed at once that the 
two good boots, his and mine, belonged to two different fash- 
ions. His was pointed at the toe and mine was broad-cut, and 
both were for the left foot. These unfortunate circumstances 
did not disturb Strodtmann in the least, and although he may 
have suffered at times considerable inconvenience, he walked 
about in these two left boots, one of which was pointed and the 
other broad, until his own footgear had had the necessary 
repairs. 

I felt the necessity of perfecting myself in the French 
language in order to speak and write it with ease, and with that 
delicacy which constitutes one of its characteristic charms. One 
of my friends recommended to me a teacher who bore the high- 
sounding name of Mme. La Princesse de Beaufort. Accord- 
ing to rumor, she belonged to an old noble family, but was 
impoverished to such a degree by the political revolutions, that 
she had to earn her bread as a teacher of language. Whether 
this was all true in reality I do not know, but when I sought 
her out I found her in a modest apartment of a hotel garni. 
an elderly lady of very agreeable features and a quiet, refined 
and somewhat courtly manner that permitted me to believe she 
had really moved in distinguished circles. She accepted me as 
a pupil and declared herself willing to give me two lessons a 
week, each of which should cost one franc. We began the next 
day. My teacher allowed me the choice of the method of in- 
struction, and I proposed to her, instead of following the usual 
custom of memorizing rules of grammar, that I would write 

[347] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
for her little letters or essays on subjects that interested me. 
She was then to correct my mistakes and to instruct me in the 
idiomatic forms of speech. In following this method we were 
to have a grammar at hand for the purpose of pointing out the 
rules which I had violated. This pleased her, and as I was 
already able to make myself somewhat understood in French, 
we set to work without delay. 

This method proved very successful. My letters or short 
essays treated of real happenings that had occurred to me, or 
of what I had seen in museums, or of books, or of the 
political events of the day. Now, as I did not merely link 
together grammatically constructed sentences as the pupils 
of so many educational institutions usually do when writing 
their Latin themes, but as I set forth my experiences and my 
views with great freedom and thereby tried to give my exercises 
some intrinsic interest, my teacher did not confine herself to the 
mere correction of my grammatical mistakes, but she entered 
into animated conversations with me, in which she encouraged 
me further to enlarge upon the subjects narrated or discussed 
in my papers. These conversations, in which she showed, aside 
from a thorough knowledge of French, much independent 
thought and comprehension, became to both of us so agreeable 
that not seldom the passing of the hour escaped our attention, 
and when I rose to take leave she insisted that I stay in order to 
pursue the discussion a little farther. Aside from these lessons 
I read much and never permitted myself to skip over words or 
forms of speech which I did not understand. My progress was 
encouraging, and after a few weeks it happened sometimes 
that my teacher returned my paper to me with the assurance 
that she found nothing in it to correct. 

This way of learning a foreign language proved no less 
effective than agreeable. One may begin the attempts of free 

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THE REMINISCENCES OE CARL SCHURZ 
expression, and thus an independent use of the language, with 
a comparatively small vocabulary. Conscientious reading and 
well-conducted conversations will then quickly enlarge the vo- 
cabulary and develop the facility of expression. But I cannot 
lay too much stress upon the fact that the free and exact ren- 
dering of one's own thoughts in writing is the most efficient ex- 
ercise in acquiring a language. In mere conversation we are apt 
to skip over difficulties by permitting ourselves vaguenesses and 
inaccuracies of expression which would sternly demand correc- 
tion — and correction, too, easily kept in mind — when the written 
word looked us in the face. To quicken the efficacy of this exer- 
cise requires, of course, a teacher able not only to pound gram- 
matical rules into the head of the pupil, but also to stir up, 
through study of the language, a mentally active interest in the 
subjects spoke or written about. Mme. La Princesse de Beau- 
fort filled these requirements to a high degree, and the hours 
which I passed with her have always remained with me an 
especially agreeable memory. 

Another similarly effective method of acquiring foreign 
languages without a teacher I will explain later in connection 
with my study of English. Thanks to my teacher, I rapidly 
acquired such fluency and ease in the French language, 
that I could, and did, write short letters to French jour- 
nals, which were published without correction. I regret to 
say that in the course of time I have lost some of that facility 
in consequence of a want of practice. For this I reproach my- 
self, because one may without difficulty, also without constant 
opportunity for conversation, retain a complete possession of a 
language once learned by simply reading to one's self every day 
aloud a few pages of some good author. 

I continued with zeal to study French history, especially 
that of the time of the great revolution, and as France was still 

[349] 



THE REMINISCENCES OE CARL SCHURZ 
regarded as the revolutionary leader, and we expected the most 
important results from the developments there, I took a lively 
interest in French politics and pursued with the intensest con- 
cern the struggle going on at that time between the Republi- 
cans and the President, Louis Napoleon, who was suspected of 
usurpatory designs. But I had to confess to myself that many 
of the things which, as a critical observer, I witnessed around 
me seriously modified my conception of the grandeur of the 
events of the revolutionary period, and shook my faith in the 
historic mission of France as to the future of the civilized world. 
I frequently visited the gallery of the National Assembly when 
debates of importance were announced. I had studied the his- 
tory of the " Constituent Assembly " of 1789, of the " Legisla- 
tive Body " and of the " Convention " of the first revolution 
with great diligence and thoroughness, knew by heart some of 
the most celebrated oratorical performances of Mirabeau and 
others, was well acquainted with the parliamentary discussions 
of that period, and hoped now to hear and see something simi- 
lar to that which had moved me so powerfully in reading and 
which lived in my imagination as a heroic drama. My disap- 
pointment in visiting the National Assembly with this expecta- 
tion was great. Indeed, high-sounding speeches and scenes of 
stormy and tumultuous excitement were not lacking; but with 
all this, as it seemed to me, there was too little of an earnest and 
thoughtful exchange of opinions between eminent men, and 
too much of theatrical attitudinizing and of declamatory 
phrasemongery. It happened to me — as it frequently happens 
— that the disappointment of expectations which had been 
pitched too high, will, in the conclusions we draw, lead us to 
underestimate the character and value of existing things and 
conditions as we see them before us. What in fact I did witness 
was the French way of doing things. That way did not corre- 

[350] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
spond with my ideals; but it was, after all, the French way, 
which, with all its histrionic superficialities, had in the past, 
especially in the great revolution, proved itself very real and 
serious and had produced tremendous results. 

However, what I saw of political action on the public 
stage had a sobering effect on me, and this effect was intensi- 
fied and confirmed by my observations in the Latin Quarter 
and in public places of amusement of the dissoluteness of 
student life — the habitual life of young men who might be 
considered the flower of French youth. I shall never forget 
the impression made upon me and my friends by a masked ball 
at the opera which some of us young Germans visited during 
the carnival season of 1851. Everybody was admitted who 
could pay for his ticket and provide himself with the pre- 
scribed attire, that is to say, the ordinary evening dress or some 
fancy costume. The ball began about midnight. The multi- 
tude present consisted of all ranks and conditions, among whom 
I recognized a good many students living in the Latin Quarter, 
with their grizettes or " petites femmes," and of other persons 
who had come, not all to take part in the dance, but to witness 
this characteristic spectacle of Parisian life. The anterooms 
were teeming with women in dominos, who approached men 
walking about in a very confidential way. The great auditory 
of the opera and the stage were arranged as a ballroom. Danc- 
ing began in comparatively decent manner, but degenerated 
soon into the ordinary cancan. Police agents moved through 
the room to prevent the grossest violations of decency. At first 
they seemed to succeed in a degree — at least the dancers seemed 
to keep themselves in check in their immediate presence. But as 
the hours advanced, the temperature of the room rose, and the 
blood of the dancers became heated, the business of the guar- 
dians of order grew more and more hopeless. At last all 

[351] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
restraint was at an end and bestiality would have its own 
way. Men and women, some of whom in the fury of the dance 
had torn their clothing from their shoulders, raved like crazed 
beings. The scene beggared description. The programme an- 
nounced as the last dance a galop, called the " Hell Galop." 
The orchestra played an especially furious measure, accompan- 
ied with the ringing of bells. In truth, the crowd whirling in the 
wildest reel of sensuality looked very much like a pandemonium 
rushing straight into the bottomless pit. While this galop was 
going on — it was about four o'clock in the morning — the rear 
of the big room filled itself with soldiers, who formed in line. 
Suddenly the music of the orchestra was drowned by a rattling 
roll of drums, and the infantry line, bayonets fixed but arms 
trailed, advanced slowly, step by step crowding the dancers and 
the onlookers out of the hall. 

To drink the cup to the dregs, we went to one of the res- 
taurants on the Boulevard near by to take some refreshments — 
" petit souper," as it was called. The spectacle we beheld there 
surpassed all we had seen before. The most unbridled fancy 
could not imagine a picture more repulsive. 

I had often tarried in the gallery of the Luxembourg in 
contemplation of Couture's great canvas, called ' La deca- 
dance des Romains," which so eloquently portrays the moral 
decline of a mighty people and a great civilization; but what 
we here saw before us lacked even the reminiscence of past 
greatness, which in Couture's picture is so impressive. It was 
moral decay even to putrescence in its most vulgar form, its 
most repulsive aspect, its most shameless display. 

My friends and myself consoled ourselves with the reflec- 
tion that we had seen the worst, an exceptional extreme, and 
that this could not possibly be representative of the whole 
French people ; and to this thought we clung all the more read- 

[ 352 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
ily as our hopes of the new democratic revival in Kurope hung 
upon the part which we expected the French Republic to play. 

But I had to confess to myself that on the whole the 
atmosphere of Paris was not congenial to me, and with sincere 
pleasure I accepted an invitation of the Kinkel family, urging 
me to visit them in London and to spend at least a week or two 
in their happy home. 

Here I must mention an occurrence which at the time 
caused me astonishment. Strodtmann had made me acquainted 
with a marine painter by the name of Melbye, a Dane. He 
was much older than we, an artist of considerable skill, who 
talked about his art as well as various other things in an 
agreeable manner. He was greatly interested in clairvoyance, 
and told us he knew a clairvoyante whose performances were 
most extraordinary. He requested us several times to accom- 
pany him to a " seance " and to convince ourselves of her 
wonderful abilities. At last an evening was fixed for this enter- 
tainment, but it so happened that at about the same time I 
received an invitation from Kinkel, which I resolved to accept 
without delay. When I packed my valise Strodtmann was with 
me in my room and he expressed his regret that I could not 
attend the seance that evening. He went away for a little while, 
to return to my room later in the day and to accompany me to 
the railroad station. In the meantime the thought struck me 
that I might furnish a means for testing the powers of the 
clairvoyante. I cut off some of my hair, wrapped it in a piece 
of paper and put this into a letter-envelope, which I closed with 
sealing-wax. Then I tore a little strip from a letter I had re- 
ceived that morning from the Hungarian General Klapka, the 
celebrated defender of the fortress Komorn, and put this strip 
containing the date of the letter also into a folded paper and 
enclosed it likewise in an envelope sealed with wax. When 

[353] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
Strodtmann had returned to me I gave him the two envelopes, 
without informing him of their contents, and instructed him 
to place them in the hands of the clairvoyante, with the request 
that she give a description of the appearance, the character, 
the past career and the temporary sojourn of the person from 
whom the objects concealed in the. envelopes had come. Then 
I left for London. 

A few days later I received a letter from Strodtmann, in 
which he narrated the results of the seance, as follows: The 
clairvoyante took one of my envelopes in her hand and said this 
contained the hair of a young man who looked thus and so. She 
then described my appearance in the most accurate way, and 
added that this young man had won notoriety by his connection 
with a bold enterprise, and that at the present time he was on 
the other side of a deep water, in a large city and in the circle 
of a happy family. Then she gave a description of my charac- 
ter, my inclinations and my mental faculties, which, as I saw 
them in black and white, surprised me greatly. Not only did 
I recognize myself in the main features of this description, 
but I found in it also certain statements which seemed to give 
me new disclosures about myself. It happens sometimes when 
we look into our own souls that in our impulses, in our feelings, 
in our ways of thinking, we find something contradictory, 
something enigmatical, which the most conscientious self-exam- 
ination does not always suffice to make clear. And now there 
flashed from the utterances of this clairvoyante gleams of light 
which solved for me many of those contradictions and riddles. 
I received, so to speak, a revelation about my own inner self, a 
psychological analysis which I had to recognize as just as soon 
as I perceived it. 

What the clairvoyante said about the other envelope, which 
contained Klapka's writing, was hardly less astonishing. She 

[354] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
described the writer of the letters and figures contained in that 
envelope as a handsome, dark-bearded man, with sparkling 
eyes, who had once governed a city full of armed men and be- 
sieged by enemies. The description of his person, of his past, 
and also of his character as far as I knew it, was throughout 
correct; but when the clairvoyante added that this man was at 
the time not in Paris, but in another city, where he had gone to 
meet a person very dear to him, I thought we had caught her 
in a mistake. A few days later I returned to Paris, and had 
hardly arrived there when I met General Klapka on the street. 
I asked him at once whether, since he had written his last letter 
to me, he had been constantly in Paris, and I was not a little 
amazed when he told me that he had a few days ago made an 
excursion to Brussels, where he had stopped not quite a week, 
and the " dear person " whom he was to have seen there, I 
learned from an intimate friend of Klapka, was a lady whom 
it was said he would marry. The clairvoyante was therefore 
right in every point. 

This occurrence mystified me very much. The more I con- 
sidered the question, whether the clairvoyante could possibly 
have received knowledge of the contents of my envelopes, or 
whether she could have had any cue for guessing at them, the 
more certain I became that this could not be. Strodtmann him- 
self did not know what I had put into the envelopes. Of 
Klapka's letter to me he had not the slightest information. He 
also assured me that he had put the envelopes into the hands of 
the clairvoyante, one after the other, in exactly the same condi- 
tion in which he had received them, without for a moment con- 
fiding them to anybody else and without telling to anyone 
from whom they came; and I could absolutely depend upon 
the word of my thoroughly honest friend. But even if — which 
was quite unthinkable to me— there had been some collusion 

[355 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
between him and the clairvoyante, or if he had, without know- 
ing it, betrayed from whom the envelopes had come, it would 
not have solved the riddle how the clairvoyante could have de- 
scribed my character, my inclinations, my impulses, my men- 
tal qualities, much more clearly and truthfully and sagaciously 
than Strodtmann or Melbye ever could have done. In fact, 
Melbye knew me only very superficially. In our few conversa- 
tions he had always done the most talking; and a deep insight 
into the human soul did not at all belong to Strodtmann's 
otherwise excellent abilities. In short, I could not in the whole 
incident find the slightest reason for the suspicion that here we 
had to do with a merely clever juggler. The question arose: 
Was not here a force at work which lay outside of the ordinary 
activity of the senses and which we could indeed observe in the 
utterance of its effects, and which we perhaps could also set in 
motion, but which we could not define as to its true essence or 
its constituent elements ? In later years I have had similar expe- 
riences, which I intend to mention in their proper places. 

I shall now return to my visit in London. Kinkel had 
rented in the suburb of St. John's Wood a little house, where I 
was most heartily welcomed as a guest. He had already found 
a profitable field of work as a teacher, and Frau Kinkel gave 
music lessons. I found the whole family in a very cheerful 
state of mind, and we spent some happy days together. In fact 
I felt myself so much at home that Kinkel could easily per- 
suade me to give up Paris and to come over to London, where 
I, as it seemed to me, would be able to make a comfortable liv- 
ing as a teacher without great difficulty. I then returned to 
Paris, as I thought only for a few weeks but my departure 
from the French capital was to be delayed by an unexpected 
and very disagreeable incident. 

One afternoon I accompanied on a walk the wife of my 

[356] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
friend Reinhold Solger, a fellow-German refugee, a man of 
great knowledge and acquirements, who later was to occupy a 
respected position in the service of the United States. We 
were in the neighborhood of the Palais Royal when an un- 
known man stopped me and asked to have a word with me 
aside, as he had something very confidential to communicate to 
me. As soon as we were out of the hearing of Mrs. Solger he 
told me that he was a police agent, ordered to arrest me and 
to take me at once to the " Prefecture de Police." I excused 
myself to Mrs. Solger as best I could and accompanied the un- 
welcome stranger. 

He conducted me first to a police commissioner, who in- 
quired after my name, my age, my nativity, and so on. I was 
astonished that the police, who seemed to know my name, did 
not know where I lived. I declared to the commissioner that I 
had absolutely no reason for concealing anything, and ac- 
quainted him with the number of the house in which I lived, 
as well as with the place in my room where the keys to all my 
belongings could be found; but I wished to know for what 
reason I had been taken into custody. The commissioner 
mysteriously lifted his eyebrows, talked of higher orders, and 
thought I would learn of this soon enough. Another police 
agent then conducted me to the "Prefecture de Police." 
There I was turned over to a jailer, who after I had surren- 
dered the money I had with me and my pocket-knife to a 
subordinate turnkey, took me into a cell and locked me in. To 
the question whether I would not soon be informed of the 
reason of my arrest I did not receive any answer. My cell 
was a little bare room, sparingly lighted by a narrow window 
with iron bars high up in the wall. There were two small, not 
very clean, beds, two wooden chairs and a little table. 

I expected every moment to be called to a hearing, for I 

[357] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
thought that in a republic, such as France was at that time, 
they would not incarcerate anybody without telling him the 
reason therefor at once; but I waited in vain. Evening came 
and the turnkey informed me that I might have a supper, con- 
sisting of various dishes which he enumerated, if I were able 
and willing to pay for it ; otherwise I would have to be content 
with the ordinary prison fare, which he described to me in a 
manner not at all alluring. I ordered a modest meal, and in 
eating it I thought with melancholy longing of my good 
Citoyens in the Rue Saint-Germain l'Auxerois. 

Late in the evening, when I had already gone to bed, 
another prisoner was brought to my cell. In the dim light of 
the turnkey's lantern I saw in the newcomer a man still young, 
in shabby clothes, with a smooth-shaven face and dark, restless 
eyes. He at once began a conversation with me and informed 
me that he had been accused of theft, and upon that accusation 
had been arrested. The charge, however, was entirely un- 
founded, but as he had been arrested before on similar sus- 
picions, the authorities would not accept his assurances of 
innocence. I thus had a common thief as my companion and 
roommate. He seemed to see in me a fellow-laborer in the 
vineyard, for he asked me in a rather confidential tone what 
accident I had been caught in. My short and entirely truthful 
response did not appear to satisfy him; he may have even re- 
garded it as unfriendly, for he did not say another word, but 
lay down upon his bed and was soon in a profound sleep. 

During the still night I thought over my situation. Had 
I really done anything in Paris that might have been consid- 
ered punishable? I examined all the corners of my memory 
and found nothing. Of course the reason for my arrest could 
only be a political one, but however my opinions and senti- 
ments might displease the government of President Napoleon, 

[358] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
I certainly had not taken part in any political movement in 
France. In Paris I had only been an observer and a student. 
I did not doubt that while I was in prison the police would 
search the papers in my room, but that could not disquiet me, 
as I knew that nothing could be found there except some histor- 
ical notes, a few literary sketches and some letters from friends 
of an entirely harmless nature. All the papers which might in 
any way have been considered questionable, as well as the pistols 
which I had carried with me during the Kinkel affair, I had 
been cautious enough to entrust to one of my friends for safe- 
keeping. Nothing remained but the suspicion that I had been 
taken into custody at the instance of the Prussian govern- 
ment. But would the French Republic be capable of surren- 
dering me to Prussia? This I deemed impossible; and thus I 
looked the future calmly in the face. But I was stung by 
a feeling of the degradation inflicted upon me by shutting me 
up in the same room with a common thief. It revolted my self- 
respect. And this could happen in a republic ! 

My indignation rose the following morning when I still 
failed to receive information about the cause of my arrest. At 
an early hour the thief was taken out of the cell and I re- 
mained alone. I asked the turnkey for paper, pen and ink, and 
in my best French I wrote a letter to the prefect, in which, in 
the name of the laws of the country, I demanded that I be in- 
formed why I had been deprived of my liberty. The turnkey 
promised to transmit the letter, but the day passed without an 
answer, and so another day, and still another. Neither did I 
receive a word from my friends, and I hesitated to write to 
any of them, because the receipt of a letter from me might have 
embarrassed them. In those few days I learned to understand 
something of the emotions which may torment the soul of a 
prisoner— a feeling of bitter wrath against the brutal power 

[359] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
that h'eld me captive; the consciousness of complete impotency 
which rose in me like a mockery of myself; the feverish imag- 
ination that troubled me with an endless variety of ugly pic- 
tures; a restless impetus that compelled me to run up and 
down for hours in my cell like a wild animal in its cage ; then a 
dreary emptiness in mind and heart which finally ended in dull 
brooding without any definite thought. 

On the morning of the fourth day I addressed a second 
letter to the prefect still more vehement and pathetic than the 
first, and shortly afterwards the turnkey told me that I would 
be taken to the bureau of the chief. In a few minutes I found 
myself in a comfortably furnished office-room and in the pres- 
ence of a stately gentleman, who kindly asked me to sit down. 
He then complimented me elaborately upon the correctness of 
the French of my letters, which he called quite remarkable, 
considering my German nationality; and he expressed in the 
politest phrases his regret that I had been incommoded by my 
arrest. There was really no charge against me. It was only 
desired by the government that I select a place of residence 
for myself outside of the boundaries of France, and to this end 
leave Paris and the country as soon as might be convenient to 
me. In vain I tried to move this polite gentleman to a state- 
ment of the reasons which might make my removal from 
France so desirable. With constantly increasing politeness he 
told me that it was so desired in higher places. At last I 
thought to appease his evident trouble about my lacerated feel- 
ings by the remark that in fact the desire of the government 
did not incommode me at all, inasmuch as I had intended to 
go to London, and that my arrest had only delayed me some- 
what in my preparations for departure. The polite gentleman 
was enchanted at this happy coincidence of my intentions with 
the desire of his government, and he told me finally not to be 

[360] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CAUL SCIIUItZ 
in too great a hurry with my preparations for leaving. He 
would be delighted if I felt myself under his especial protec- 
tion while in Paris, where I might still remain two, three, four, 
even six weeks, if that would amuse me. He would then put 
at my disposal a passport for any foreign country ; but after 
my departure he hoped that I would not embarrass him by 
returning to Paris without his special permission. Then he bade 
me farewell with a friendliness bordering on actual affection, 
and I left him with the impression that I had made the ac- 
quaintance of the politest and most agreeable police tyrant in 
the world. 

I hurried back to my quarters and found the Petit family 
in great tribulation on my account. Madame and the two 
faded daughters told me in a shrill trio how a few days ago 
two police agents had searched my room and examined my 
papers, but had left everything behind them in the best of 
order. The police had also tried to inform themselves of my 
conduct by putting questions to the Petit family, and I might 
be assured that the Petit family had given me the most excel- 
lent character; but then the Petit family had become very 
much disquieted about my lot, and had informed my friends 
who had called upon me of all that had happened, and re- 
quested them to set in motion every possible influence that 
might help me. Subsequently I learned, indeed, that several of 
my friends had made proper efforts in my behalf, and it is 
quite possible that this had hastened my discharge from im- 
prisonment. 

The reason of my arrest, however, soon became quite clear 
to me. Louis Napoleon had begun the preparations for his 
coup d'etat which was to do away with the republican form of 
government and to put him in possession of monarchical power. 
While the republicans deceived themselves about the danger 

[361] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
that was looming up, and tried to ridicule the pretender as an 
' inane ape ' of his great uncle, this man set all means in 
motion to win the army and the masses of the people for him- 
self and his schemes. The Napoleonic propaganda was organ- 
ized in all parts of the country in the most varied forms, and 
this agitation fell especially with the peasant population on 
very fertile soil. The legend of the Napoleonic Empire, with 
its wars and victories, and its tragic end, was the heroic lay of 
the country people, in the glamor of which every peasant 
family sunned itself and felt itself great. Each could tell of 
some ancestor who at Rivoli, or at the Pyramids, or at Ma- 
rengo, or at Austerlitz, or at Jena, or at Wagram, or at Boro- 
dino, or at Waterloo, had fought under the eyes of the mighty 
chief, and in this heroic epic there stood the colossal figure of 
the Great Emperor enveloped in myth, like a demigod, un- 
equaled in his achievements, gigantic even in his fall. Every 
cabin was adorned with his picture, which signified the great 
past history of power and glory embodied in this one superior 
being. And now a nephew of the Great Emperor presented 
himself to the people, bearing the name of the demigod and 
promising in this name to restore the magic splendor of that 
period. Numberless agents swarmed through the country, and 
pamphlets and hand-bills passed from house to house and from 
hand to hand, to make known the message of the nephew and 
successor of the great Napoleon, who stood ready to restore all 
the old magnificent grandeur. Even the barrel-organ was 
pressed into the service of that agitation to accompany songs 
about the Emperor and his nephew in the taverns and the mar- 
ket-places of the country. The more intelligent populations of 
the cities did indeed not reverence the Napoleonic legend with 
the same naive devotion; but that legend had, even before the 
nephew began his career as a pretender, been nourished in a 

[362] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
hardly less effective manner. Beranger's songs and Thiers' 
" History of the Consulate and the Empire " had stimulated 
the Naj^oleonic cult, and even the government of Louis Philippe 
had paid its homage to it, by transporting Napoleon's remains 
with great pomp from St. Helena to the Church of the Inval- 
ides. The field so prepared was incessantly tilled by Louis Napo- 
leon, while he stood as ^resident at the head of the executive 
power. As the barrel-organ did service in the country dis- 
tricts, the theater was made to serve in the cities. I remember 
a spectacular drama, which was produced on one of the Fau- 
bourg stages with great pomp and startling realism. It was 
called " La Barriere de Clichy," and represented the campaign 
of 1814, the exile of Napoleon on the Isle of Elba, and his re- 
turn to France in 1815. Napoleon appeared on the boards in 
an excellent mask, on foot and on horseback, and all the en- 
gagements of that campaign in which he was successful passed 
before the eyes of the multitude ; the French infantry, cavalry, 
and artillery in the historic uniforms of the Empire; the ene- 
mies, Prussians and Russians, barbarous-looking fellows, un- 
couth and rude, and constantly running away from French 
heroism. Blucher appeared in person as a boisterous barbarian, 
indulging in the most horrible blackguardism, constantly smok- 
ing a short pipe, blowing forth tremendous clouds of smoke, 
and incessantly spitting around him. The enemies were regu- 
larly defeated, so that it was difficult for the impartial beholder 
to understand why Napoleon, after all these splendid victories, 
succumbed, and was forced to go into exile. At any rate, he 
soon returned amid the enthusiastic acclamation of the people. 
The army went over to him promptly, and this piece concluded 
with his triumphal entry into Grenoble. The public applauded 
with enthusiasm, and the cry of " Vive l'Empereur " was heard, 
not only on the stage, but not seldom also in the galleries, in 

[363] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
the parterre, and in the boxes. Thus the city populations were 
being labored upon. 

The so-called " Prince-President " sought to win the army 
by appearing at parades and maneuvers in a general's uni- 
form, by showing the soldiers all possible favors, and by 
drawing to himself the most adventurous spirits among the 
officers. In the spring of 1851 he began also to prepare the 
prospective battlefield of the intended " coup d'etat." The 
bourgeois of Paris were made to apprehend that the city was 
full of the most dangerous elements from which every moment 
an attempt at a complete subversion of the social order was 
to be feared; that " society " was in imminent danger and must 
be " saved." The " Prince-President," so the word went forth, 
was ready to undertake that work of salvation, but the parlia- 
mentary power sought to bind his hands. However, he was 
doing what he could, and would first undertake to deliver 
Paris of the dangerous characters infesting it. One of the 
measures taken to that end consisted in the driving away from 
the city all foreigners who might be suspected of an inclination 
to take part in forcible resistance to the intended ' coup 
d'etat," and in that category I too was counted. 

A police agent, who described the threatening dangers in 
a pamphlet written for the purpose of terrifying the timid 
bourgeois, called me an especially daring revolutionist, who in 
his old fatherland had already committed the most frightful 
outrages. To illustrate this, he narrated the liberation of Kin- 
kel, describing him with the most fabulous fabrications as 
an uncommonly detestable criminal. To these circumstances 
I owed my arrest and my exile from France, in spite of 
my modest and retired conduct during my stay there. It is 
indeed not at all improbable that if I had been in Paris 
at the time of the coup d'etat I should have seen in the 
popular resistance to the Napoleonic usurpation the decisive 

[364] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
struggle for and against liberty in Europe, and I might have 
taken up the musket and fought with the republicans on the 
barricades on the 2d of December. So it may be, that, if it 
had otherwise been my intention to remain in Paris, the police 
saved me from participating in a hopeless enterprise, and possi- 
bly from a miserable end. 

The last weeks of my sojourn in Paris were devoted to 
visits to galleries, museums, and interesting architectures, and 
to merry conviviality with my friends. To one of them, a 
young Frenchman from Provence who had studied medi- 
cine in Paris, my departure was especially hard. I had 
made his acquaintance as one of the lodgers of the Petit house, 
and I mention him because he furnished a remarkable ex- 
ample of the effect of German philosophy upon a French 
brain, which I would not have deemed possible had I not 
personally witnessed it. Soon after we had become acquainted 
he attached himself to me and to several others among my 
German friends, and as he was a modest, agreeable, and able 
young man taking life seriously, we reciprocated his friendly 
feelings. He loved Germans, so he said, because they were 
the nation of thinkers. He had made the acquaintance of some 
products of German literature in translations, and tried to 
possess himself of the language, mainly for the purpose of 
studying the works of German philosophers; but he seemed 
to find it very difficult. Thus he had to content himself with 
French renderings of German philosophical works, and he 
frequently came to us for the explanation of phrases which he 
did not understand. Sometimes we could give him such ex- 
planations, but many of the dark expressions we did not un- 
derstand ourselves. Suddenly we became aware that our young 
Provencal, whose conduct of life had always been very regular 
and irreproachable, visited the German beerhouses, of which 
there were a great many in Paris, and drank heavily. This went 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
so far that one day Mme. Petit and her daughters asked me 
to visit him in his room, as he had come home the night before 
much intoxicated, and was now, it seemed, seriously ailing. I 
complied with this request at once and found my friend in that 
condition which at the German university is designated as a 
deep " Katzen jammer." The young man confessed to me that 
he was heartily ashamed of his behavior, but he thought if 
I knew the cause of it I would not think so ill of him. Then 
he told me, with great gravity, that he had for some time 
tried to study the German philosopher Hegel, and he had 
found in his works many things that had tormented him with 
doubts as to the soundness of his own mind. Therefore he had 
tried to amuse himself, and as the Germans, of whom he be- 
lieved that Hegel's philosophical works were their favorite 
reading, liked to drink beer, he had also made an effort to 
facilitate the Hegel studies by accustoming himself to the same 
beverage. The good boy talked so seriously and so honestly 
that I refrained from laughing, and assured him with equal 
seriousness that many a German, too, had nearly become in- 
sane in studying Hegel, and that the drinking of beer did not 
help them. Now, if Hegel, in the German language, produced 
such effects upon German heads, what effect could be expected 
upon my friend of a French decoction of Hegel? This seemed 
to quiet my good Provencal very much. I advised him now 
to give up Hegel, as well as the excessive drinking of beer, and 
to devote himself again to the study of medicine, like the well- 
behaved, serious, and diligent man he had been before. He 
promised this, and he did it really ; and on the day of my fare- 
well from Paris we took leave of one another with the sincerest 
regret. As this story may seem somewhat extravagant and im- 
probable, I cannot refrain from concluding it with the assur- 
ance that it is literally true. 

[366] 



CHAPTER XIII 

ABOUT the midle of June I arrived in London. Kinkel had 
already selected rooms for me on St. John's Wood Terrace, not 
far from his house, and he had also found pupils for me to 
whom I was to give lessons in the German language and in 
music, the proceeds of which would be more than sufficient 
to cover my modest wants. The well-known paradox that you 
can have more in London for a shilling and less for a pound, 
than anywhere else, that is to say, that you can live very cheaply 
and comparatively well in modest circumstances, while life on 
a grand scale is very expensive, was at that time as well founded 
as undoubtedly it still is. I could have found a great many 
more pupils if I had been able to speak English. But, strange 
as this appeared to myself in later life, my musical ear still 
rebelled against the sound of the English language, and could 
not conquer its repugnance. The peculiar charm of its cadence 
I began to appreciate only as I learned to speak it with fluency. 
In the social circles to which I was admitted, and of which I 
shall say something later, German and French were sufficient. 
In teaching German to others the Princess De Beaufort's 
method in teaching me French proved of great use to me. 

Some of my pupils took a very lively interest in old Ger- 
man literature, and requested me to read with them the 
Nibelungenlied ; and, as not seldom happens, in my role of 
teacher I learned more of the subject I had to teach than I 
had known before, and than I would have learned otherwise. 
I taught and learned with real enthusiasm, for — I may per- 

[367] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
mit myself here to remark, by the way — the Nibelungenlied is, 
in my opinion, certainly not in elegance of diction, but surely 
in dramatic architecture, the grandest and most powerful epic 
presented by any medieval or modern literature. 

In my social intercourse, the Kinkel family occupied nat- 
urally the first place. Their house was small, and modestly 
furnished. But in this house dwelled happiness. Kinkel had 
regained the whole cheerful elasticity of his being. His hair 
and beard were, to be sure, touched with gray, but the morbid 
pallor which his imprisonment had imparted to his face had 
yielded to the old fresh and healthy hue. With cheerful cour- 
age he had undertaken the task of founding for his family in 
a foreign country a comfortable existence, and his efforts were 
crowned with success. To the private lessons he gave were 
added lectures and other engagements at educational institu- 
tions. During the first months he had earned enough to give his 
wife an Erard grand piano, and Frau Kinkel won in a large 
social circle an excellent reputation as a teacher of music. The 
four children promised well as they grew up. There could have 
been nothing more pleasant and instructive than to see Frau 
Kinkel occupied with the education of her two boys and two 
girls. They not only began to play on the piano as soon as they 
were physically able, but they also sang with perfect purity 
of tone and naive expession, quartets composed by their mother 
especially for them. 

The joy I felt when I observed the new life of this family 
I cannot well describe. I learned to understand and appreciate 
one great truth: there is no purer or more beautiful happiness 
in this world than the consciousness of having contributed some- 
thing toward the happiness of those one loves, without de- 
manding any other reward than this consciousness. 

The gratitude of Kinkel and his wife was so sincere and 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
untiring that it frequently embarrassed me. They constant]! 
were looking for something that they could do to please me. Aj 
the time when I was thinking of settling down in London ii 
was hard work for me to induce them to accept my declination 
when they uttered the wish that I should live in their house. 
Now I had at least to consent to their pressing proposition that 
my youngest sister should come over from Germany to be 
educated in their home, like a child of the family. This turned 
out happily, as my sister was also blessed with that cheerful 
Rhenish temperament that radiates sunshine. Then Frau Kin- 
kel insisted upon giving me further lessons upon the piano, and 
I resumed my musical studies with renewed zest. My teacher 
taught me fully to appreciate Beethoven, Schubert, and Schu- 
mann, and conducted me through the enchanted gardens of 
Chopin. But more than that, she familiarized me with the rules 
and spirit of thorough-bass and thereby opened to me a knowl- 
edge which in the course of time I learned to value as an 
enrichment of musical enjoyment. Then she put at my dis- 
posal her Erard grand piano, which was reverenced in the 
family like a sacred thing, and upon which, aside from herself, 
I was the only one privileged to practice and to improvise, al- 
though there was, for such things, another instrument of less 
value in the house. 

The Kinkels, naturally, introduced me also in the social 
circles which were open to them. Of course my ignorance of 
the English language I felt as a great drawback. But I 
had the good fortune of establishing relations of something 
like friendship with several English families in which German 
or French was spoken. There I learned to understand how 
much sincere warmth of feeling there may be hidden in Eng- 
lish men and women who often appear cold, stiff and formal. I 
was soon made to feel that every word of friendly sympathy 

[ 369 ] 



\ 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
addressed to me, and every invitation to more intimate inter- 
course — words which with other people pass as mere superficial 
expressions of politeness — was to be taken as perfectly honest 
and seriously meant. Theirs was true hospitality, without pre- 
tension and without reserve, in which one breathed the atmos- 
phere of assured confidence. I have also not infrequently been 
surprised in such friendly intercourse with persons who at first 
acquaintance seemed to be rather dull, by the reach of thought, 
the treasures of knowledge, the variety of experiences, and the 
comprehensive views of life and of the world, which came forth 
in familiar talks. 

At that period, the German language was much in fashion 
in England, probably owing to the circumstance that the 
popularity of Prince Albert, whose merit as the patron of 
the great International Exposition of 1851 was universally 
recognized, had reached its highest point. It had become a 
widespread custom to sing German songs at evening parties 
and the German " Volkslieder," seemed to be especial favorites. 
I could not but be amused when in great company a blushing 
miss was solemnly conducted to the piano " to give us a sweet 
German folk song," and she then, in slow time and in a tone 
of profound melancholy, which might have indicated a case 
of death in the family, sang the merry German tune, " Wenn i' 
komm, wenn i' komm, wiederum komm," etc., etc. 

In later years I have often regretted that at that time I 
did not take more interest in the political life of England and 
did not seek acquaintances in political circles. But even without 
this, I received a deep impression of the country and the people. 
How different was the restless commotion in the streets of 
London in its mighty seriousness and its colossal motive power, 
from the gay, more or less artistically elegant, but more than 
half frivolous activity that entertains the visitor on the streets 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
of Paris; and how different from the half military, half philis- 
tine appearance presented by Berlin, which at that time had 
not yet become a world city! How well justified, how natural, 
appeared to me the national pride of the Briton, when in West- 
minster Hall I beheld the statues and busts, and in the Abbey 
the tombs of the great Englishmen, which stood there as monu- 
ments of mighty thoughts and deeds! How firmly founded 
appeared to me the free institutions of the people to whom civil 
liberty was not a mere phrase, a passing whim, or a toy, but a 
life-principle, the reality of which the citizen needed for his 
daily work, and that lived in the thoughts and aspirations of 
every Englishman as something that is a matter of course! I 
saw enough of the country and of the people to feel all this, 
although we refugees in London lived separate lives as on an 
island of our own in a great surrounding sea of humanity. 

A large number of refugees from almost all parts of the 
European continent had gathered in London since the year 
1848, but the intercourse between the different national groups 
— Germans, Frenchmen, Italians, Hungarians, Poles, Rus- 
sians — was confined more or less to the prominent personages. 
All, however, in common nourished the confident hope of a 
revolutionary upturning on the continent soon to come. Among 
the Germans there were only a few who shared this hope in 
a less degree. Perhaps the ablest and most important person 
among these was Lothar Bucher, a quiet, retiring man of great 
capacity and acquirements, who occupied himself with serious 
political studies, and whom I was to meet again in later life 
as Bismarck's most confidential privy-councilor. In London, 
as in Switzerland, the refugees zealously discussed the ques- 
tion to whom should belong the leadership in the coming revo- 
lution. Of course this oversanguine conception of things gave 
rise to all sorts of jealousies, as will always happen among 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
Ae similarly situated, and the refugees therefore divided 
.o parties which at times antagonized one another with con- 
siderable bitterness. 

When Kinkel arrived in London he occupied, naturally, a 
very prominent position among the refugees and became, so 
to speak, the head of a large following. But he also had his 
opponents who would recognize in him only a poet, a learned 
man and a political dreamer, but not a " practical revolution- 
ist " fit to be a real leader in a great struggle. Many of these 
opponents gathered, strange to say, around Arnold Ruge, a 
venerable and widely known philosopher and writer, to whom 
the name of a mere learned man and political dreamer might 
have been applied even more justly. Then there were groups of 
socialistic workingmen who partly gathered around Karl Marx 
and partly around August Willich ; and finally, many neutrals, 
who did not trouble themselves about such party bickerings, 
but went individually each his own way. 

Kinkel certainly was not free from ambition, nor from 
illusory hopes of a speedy change in the Fatherland. But his 
first and most natural aim was to make a living for his family 
in London. This claimed his activity so much that he could 
not, to so great an extent as he might have wished, take part 
in the doings of the refugees, a great many of whom had no 
regular occupation. Neither was it possible for him to keep 
open house for his political friends and to put his working 
hours at their disposal, and to make the home of his family the 
meeting place of a debating club for the constant repetition of 
things that had been told many times before. 

Kinkel was therefore reproached with giving to the cause 
of the revolution too little, and to his family interests too much 
of his time and care, and it was said that he was all the more to 
blame, as he owed his liberation in a high degree to the helpful- 

[ 372] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
ness of his democratic friends. However unjust such a re- 
proach, it touched Kinkel deeply. He was in this state of mind 
when a scheme was proposed to him, characteristic of the fever- 
ish imagination of the political exiles. The scheme was to raise 
a " German National Loan," of I do not rememher how many 
million thalers, to he redeemed at a certain time after the 
establishment of the German Republic. The money thus raised 
was to be at the disposal of a central committee to be expended 
in Germany for revolutionary ends. To expedite the levying 
of that national loan Kinkel was to go to America without 
delay, and by means of public agitation, in which his personal 
popularity and eminent oratorical gifts were expected to prove 
highly effective, induce the Germans living in America, and 
also, if possible, native Americans, too, to make liberal contribu- 
tions. In the meantime some of his friends were, through 
personal efforts, to win the assent of other prominent refugees 
to this plan, and thus, if possible, to unite all refugeedom in 
one organization. But Kinkel was to leave for America forth- 
with without exposing the project to the chance of further con- 
sultation, so that the refugees, who otherwise might have 
doubted or criticised the plan, would have to deal with it as 
an accomplished fact. 

In later years it must have appeared to Kinkel himself as 
rather strange, if not comical, that he could ever have believed 
in the success of such a plan. At any rate this project was one 
of the most striking illustrations of the self-deception of the 
political exiles. But there can hardly be any doubt that the 
reproaches directed against Kinkel, as to his giving more care 
to the well-being of his family than to the revolutionary cause, 
and as to his owing a debt of gratitude to one of his friends in 
further efforts for the revolutionary movement, was to him one 
of the principal motives for accepting this plan without hesita- 

[373] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
tlon. Only a few days after the matter had been resolved upon 
in a confidential circle Kinkel broke off his activity as a teacher 
in London — a very great sacrifice for him thus to expose his 
family to new hazards — and departed for America. I, being 
still quite young and inexperienced, was sanguine enough to 
consider the success of such an undertaking possible, and went 
into it with zeal. I was considered capable of doing some dip- 
lomatic service and therefore charged with the task of trav- 
eling to Switzerland in order to win the assent of the promi- 
nent refugees living there, and so to prepare the foundation 
for a general organization. This task I assumed with pleasure, 
and on the way paid a visit to Paris, of which I did not, how- 
ever, advise the polite prefect of police, and soon met my old 
friends in Zurich. 

For these, I had become, because of the liberation of 
Kinkel, an entirely new person since my departure a year be- 
fore. They now attributed to me a great deal more insight and 
skill than I possessed, and my diplomatic mission, therefore, 
met with but little difficulty — that is to say, the prominent refu- 
gees, in the expectation that a national loan would, through 
Kinkel's agitations in America, turn out a great success, readily 
declared their willingness to join the proposed movement. 

The most important man, and at the same time the most 
stubborn doubter, I found there, was Loewe von Calbe. As the 
last president of the German National Parliament he had gone 
in the spring of 1849 with the remnant of that assembly from 
Frankfurt to Stuttgart and there he had, arm in arm with the 
old poet Uhland, led the procession of his colleagues to a new 
meeting place, when it was dispersed by a force of Wurtemberg 
cavalry. He was a physician by profession, and had acquired 
a large treasure of knowledge in various directions by extensive 
studies. He made the impression of a very calm, methodical 

[374] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
thinker, who also possessed the courage of bold action. There 
was something of well-conditioned ease in his deportment, and 
when the sturdy, somewhat corpulent man sat down, looked at 
the listener with his uncommonly shrewd eyes, and then ex- 
posed his own opinion in well-formed, clear sentences, pro- 
nounced in slow and precise cadence, he made the impression of 
authority, the very presence of which was apt to convince, even 
before the argument had been conducted to its last conclusions. 
Loewe was not nearly as sanguine as most of us with regard to 
the possibility of a speedy change of things in Germany, al- 
though even he was not entirely untouched by the current illu- 
sions of the exiles' life. He expressed to me his doubts as to 
the chances of the projected national loan; but as he did not al- 
together repel the plan, and as I was anxious to win him for 
this enterprise by further conversations about it, I accompanied 
him on a tramp through the " Berner Oberland." 

Until then I had seen the snowy heads of the Alps only 
from afar. Now for the first time I came near to them and, 
so to speak, sat down at their feet. We walked from Bern to 
Interlaken and then by way of Lauterbrunnen and the Wen- 
gern Alp to Grindelwald; then we ascended the Faulhorn, 
and finally turned to the lakes by way of the Scheideck. We 
stopped at the most beautiful points long enough to see the 
finest part of this range. Of all the wonderful things that I 
saw, the deepest impression was produced upon me not by the 
vast panoramas, as from the top of the Faulhorn, where large 
groups and chains of the Alps are embraced in one view, but it 
was the single mountain peak reaching up into the blue sunny 
ether from a bank of clouds that separated it from the nether 
world, and standing there as something distinct and individual. 
It was the image of the eternally firm, unchangeable, cer- 
tain, looking down as from a throne in serene sunlight upon 

[375] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
the eternally unstable and untrustworthy. This picture became 
especially impressive when behind a veil of cloud the dull mys- 
terious thunder of the plunging avalanches was heard. As we 
were favored by constantly beautiful weather I enjoyed this 
spectacle frequently and always with a feeling that 1 cannot 
designate otherwise than devotional. 

I was so deeply touched by all this magnificence that I 
envied every peasant who could spend his life in such surround- 
ings. But my enthusiasm was sobered by an enlightening experi- 
ence. On the village street of Grindelwald I noticed one day a 
man of an intelligent face, who was saluted by the children 
playing on the street, with especial interest. From his appear- 
ance I concluded that he must be the schoolmaster of the village, 
and I was not mistaken. I stopped and asked him for some in- 
formation about local conditions, and found him amiably com- 
municative. He told me that in the Valley of Grindelwald, a 
valley covering hardly more than four or five square miles, 
there were people who had never passed its boundaries. The 
whole world as seen by them was therefore enclosed by the 
Schreckhorn, Monch, Eiger, Jungfrau and Faulhorn. In 
my enthusiasm I remarked that the constant sight of so mag- 
nificent a landscape might perhaps satisfy the taste of any man. 
The schoolmaster smiled and said that the ordinary peasant was 
probably least conscious of this grand beauty. He saw, in the 
phenomena of nature which he observed, rather that which 
was to him advantageous or disadvantageous, encouraging 
or troublesome, or even threatening. The cloud formations, 
which caused us a variety of sensations and emotions, sig- 
nified to him only good or bad weather; the thunder of 
the avalanches reminded him only that under certain cir- 
cumstances they might do a great deal of damage; he saw 
in the fury of the mountain hurricane, not a grand spectacle, 

[376] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
but destructive hail storms and the danger of inundations, 
and so on. 

I asked the schoolmaster whether it was not true what 
we frequently heard of the famous Swiss' homesickness, that 
those born and reared in these mountains could not be satisfied 
or happy elsewhere, and if forced to live in foreign parts, were 
consumed by a morbid longing for their mountain home. The 
schoolmaster smiled again and thought such cases of homesick- 
ness did occur among the Swiss, but not in larger number nor 
with greater force than with the inhabitants of other regions. 
Everywhere he supposed there might be people that adhere to 
the habits and conditions of life of their homes with a warm 
and even morbid attachment. But he knew also of a large num- 
ber of Swiss who in foreign countries, even on the flat prairies 
of America, had settled down and felt themselves well satisfied 
there. 

' Am I to understand from you," I asked, " that as a rule 
the Swiss himself does not appreciate the beauty of his 
country?" 

"No, not that," answered the schoolmaster; 'the more 
educated people know everywhere how to appreciate the beau- 
tiful because of its beauty; but the laboring man, who here is 
always engaged in a struggle with nature, must be told that 
the things which are to him so often troublesome and dis- 
agreeable, are also grand and beautiful. When his thought has 
once been directed to that idea, he will more and more famil- 
iarize himself with it, and the Swiss," added the schoolmaster 
with a sly smile, " also the uneducated Swiss, have now learned 
to appreciate the beauty of their country very highly." 

This sounded to me at first like a very prosaic philosophy, 
but as I thought about it, I concluded that the schoolmaster was 
right. The perception of natural beauty is not primitive, 

[377] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
but the result of education, of culture. Naive people sel- 
dom possess it or at least do not express it. The aspects of 
nature, mountain, valley, forest, desert, river, sea, sunshine, 
storm, etc., etc., are to them either beneficent, helpful, or dis- 
agreeable, troublesome, terrible. It is a significant fact that in 
Homer with all the richness of his pictures there is no descrip- 
tion of a landscape or of a natural phenomenon from the point 
of view of the beautiful. We remark the same in the primitive 
literature of other countries. In the same spirit spoke the 
farmer from one of the flat prairies of the west of America, who 
once traveled on a steamboat on the magnificent Hudson, and 
when he heard an enthusiastic fellow- traveler exclaim, " How 
beautiful these highlands are," answered dryly, " It may be a 
pretty good country, but it's a little too broken." 

My diplomatic mission in Switzerland was quickly accom- 
plished. I soon had the assent of almost all the prominent exiles 
to the plan of the national loan and I thought I had done a good 
service to the cause of liberty. Then I returned to London. 
Frau Kinkel asked me to live in her house during the absence 
of her husband, and I complied with her wish, but life in that 
house was no longer as cheerful as before Kinkel's departure. 
I then felt how great the sacrifice was that Kinkel had made 
by undertaking the mission to America. Frau Johanna had 
seen him go with sadness and anxiety. She could not be blamed 
for thinking that the burden imposed upon her by the political 
friends was all too heavy. She accepted her lot, but not without 
serious dejection. Her health began to suffer, and conditions of 
nervousness appeared, and it is probable that then the begin- 
ning of that heart disease developed which a few years later 
brought her to an early grave. The news which we received from 
Kinkel, was indeed, as far as he himself was concerned, very 
satisfactory ; but it did not suffice to cheer the darkened soul of 

[378] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
the lonely woman, however heroically she tried to seek courage 
in her patriotic impulses and hopes. 

Kinkel had much to tell in his letters of the cordiality with 
which the Germans in America had welcomed him. Wherever 
he appeared his countrymen gathered in large numbers to listen 
to the charm of his eloquence. As he traveled from city to 
city one festive welcome followed another. The enthusiasm of 
the mass meetings left nothing to be desired. Although Kinkel 
at that period spoke English with some difficulty, he was obliged 
to make little speeches in that tongue, when native Americans 
took part in the honors offered to him. So he visited all the 
important places in the United States, north, south, east, and 
west. He also paid his respects to President Fillmore and was 
received with great kindness. These happenings he described 
with bubbling humor in his letters, which breathed a keen 
enjoyment of his experiences, as well as a warm interest in 
the new country. In short, his journey was successful in all 
respects, except in that of the German National Loan. Indeed, 
committees were organized everywhere for the collection of 
money and for the distribution of loan certificates; but the 
contributions finally amounted only to a few thousand dollars, 
a small sum with which no great enterprise could be set on foot. 
Kossuth, who visited the United States a few months later for 
a similar purpose, and who enjoyed a greater prestige, and was 
received with much more pomp, had the same experience. And 
it was really a fortunate circumstance that these revolutionary 
loans miscarried. Even with much larger sums hardly anything 
could have been done but to organize hopeless conspiracies and 
to lead numbers of patriotic persons into embarrassment and 
calamity without rendering any valuable service to the cause of 
liberty. 

At that time, however, we thought otherwise. Emissaries 

[379] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
were sent to Germany to investigate conditions there and to 
build up the revolutionary organization — that is to say, to 
find people who lived in the same illusions as the exiles, and 
to put these in correspondence with the London Committee 
preparatory to common action. Some of these emissaries ex- 
posed themselves to great dangers in traveling from place to 
place, and most of them returned with the report that there 
was general discontent in Germany and that an important dis- 
turbance might soon be looked for. That there was much dis- 
content in Germany was undoubtedly true. But of those who 
really dreamed of another general uprising there were only a 
few. The revolutionary fires had burned out; but the exile was 
so unwilling to accept this truth as to be inclined to look upon 
everybody that expressed it as a suspicious person. He there- 
fore worked steadily on. 

At that time I was favored by what I considered a mark 
of great distinction. One day I received a letter from Maz- 
zini, written in his own hand, in which he invited me to visit 
him. He gave me the address of one of his confidential friends 
who would guide me to him. His own address he kept secret, 
for the reason, as was generally believed, that he desired to 
baffle the espionage of monarchical governments. That the 
great Italian patriot should invite me, a young and insig- 
nificant person, and so take me into his confidence, I felt 
to be an extraordinary distinction. Mazzini was looked upon 
in revolutionary circles, especially by us young people, as 
the dictatorial head of numberless secret leagues, as a sort 
of mysterious power which not only in Italy, but in all Europe, 
was felt and feared. Wonderful stories were told of his secret 
journeys in countries in which there was a price on his head; 
of his sudden, almost miraculous, apearance among his faith- 
ful followers here and there; of his equally miraculous disap- 

[380] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
pearance, as if the earth had swallowed him; and of the un- 
equaled skill with which he possessed himself of the secrets 
of the governments, while he knew how to conceal his own 
plans and acts. By us young men he was regarded as the em- 
bodied genius of revolutionary action, and we looked up to his 
mysterious greatness with a sort of reverential awe. I therefore 
felt, when I was called into his presence, as if I were to enter 
the workshop of the master magician. 

The confidential friend designated by Mazzini conducted 
me to the dwelling of the great leader, situated in an unfash- 
ionable street. In the vicinity of his house we met several 
black-eyed, bearded young men, manifestly Italians, who 
seemed to patrol the neighborhood. I found Mazzini in an 
extremely modest little apartment, which served at the same 
time as drawing room and office. In the middle of the room 
there was a writing table covered with an apparently confused 
heap of papers. Little models of guns and mortars served for 
paper weights; a few chairs, and, if I remember correctly, a 
hair-cloth sofa, completed the furniture. The room as a whole 
made the impression of extreme economy. 

Mazzini was seated at the writing table when I entered, 
and, rising, he offered me his hand. He was a slender man of 
medium stature, clad in a black suit. His coat was buttoned 
up to the throat, around which he wore a black silk scarf, with- 
out any show of linen. His face was of regular, if not classic, 
cut, the lower part covered with a short, black beard, streaked 
with gray. The dark eyes glowed with restless fire; his dome- 
like forehead topped with thin, smooth, dark hair. In speak- 
ing, the mouth showed a full, but somewhat dark row of teeth. 
His whole appearance was that of a serious and important 
man. Soon I felt myself under the charm of a personality of 

rare power of attraction. 

[381] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
Our conversation was carried on in French, which Mazzini 
spoke with perfect ease, although with some of the accent pecu- 
liar to the Italians. He was constantly smoking while he spoke. 
He developed even in this confidential conversation between 
two men an eloquence such as in my long life I have hardly 
ever heard again — warm, insinuating, at times vehement, en- 
thusiastic, lofty, and always thoroughly natural. The three 
greatest conversationalists with whom it has been my good for- 
tune to come into touch were Mazzini, Dr. Oliver Wendell 
Holmes and Bismarck. Of these Dr. Holmes was the most 
spirited in the " bel esprit " sense ; Bismarck the most impos- 
ing and at the same time the most entertaining in point of wit, 
sarcasm, anecdote, and narratives of historical interest, brought 
out with rushing vivacity and with lightning-like illumination 
of conditions, facts and men. But in Mazzini's words there 
breathed such a warmth and depth of conviction, such enthu- 
siasm of faith in the sacredness of the principles he professed, 
and of the aims he pursued, that it was difficult to resist such a 
power of fascination. While looking at him and hearing him 
speak I could well understand how he could hold and constantly 
augment the host of his faithful adherents, how he could lead 
them into the most dangerous enterprises and keep them under 
his influence even after the severest disappointments. 

Mazzini had undoubtedly given up, if not formally, 
yet in fact, his membership in his church. But there was 
in him, and there spoke out of him, a deep religious feel- 
ing, an instinctive reliance upon a higher Power to which he 
could turn and which would aid him in the liberation and uni- 
fication of his people. That was his form of the fatalism 
so often united with great ambitions. He had a trait of pro- 
phetic mysticism which sprung from the depths of his convic- 
tions and emotions, and was free of all charlatanism, and all 

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THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
affectation, all artificial solemnity. At least that was the im- 
pression made upon me. I never observed in him any sugges- 
tion of cynicism in his judgment of men and things -that 
cynicism in which many revolutionary characters pleased them- 
selves. The petty and usually ridiculous rivalries among the 
leaders of the exiles did not seem to touch him; and discord and 
quarreling among those who should have stood and worked to- 
gether, instead of eliciting sharp and offensive criticism on his 
part, only called from him expressions of sincere and painful 
regret. The revolution he aimed at was not merely the attain- 
ment of certain popular rights, not a mere change in the consti- 
tution of the state, not the mere liberation of his countrymen 
from foreign rule, not the mere reunion of all Italy in a national 
bond; it rather signified to him the elevation of the liberated 
people to higher moral aims of life. There vibrated a truthful 
and noble tone in his conception of human relations, in the mod- 
est self-denying simplicity of his character and his life, in the 
unbounded self-sacrifice and self-denial which he imposed upon 
himself and demanded of others. Since 1839 he had passed a 
large part of his life as an exile in London, and in the course 
of this time he had established relations of intimate friendship 
with some English families. It was undoubtedly owing to the 
genuineness of his sentiments, the noble simplicity of his nature, 
and his unselfish devotion to his cause, not less than to his 
brilliant personal qualities, that in some of those families a 
real Mazzini-cult had developed which sometimes showed itself 
capable of great sacrifices. 

The historic traditions of his people, as well as the circum- 
stance that to the end of liberating his fatherland he had to 
fight against foreign rule, made him a professional conspirator. 
As a young man he had belonged to the " Carbonari," and then 
there followed — instigated and conducted by him — one conspir- 

[383] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
acy upon another, resulting in insurrectionary attempts which 
always failed. But these failures did not discourage him; they 
rather stimulated his zeal to new efforts. In the course of our 
conversation he gave me to understand that he had preparations 
going on for a new enterprise in upper Italy, and as he probahly 
considered me a person of influence in that part of German 
refugeedom which would control the disposition of our pros- 
pective national loan, he wished to know whether we would 
be inclined to support his undertaking with our money. At 
any rate, he evidently desired to create among us a dis- 
position favorable to such cooperation. He no doubt took 
me for a more influential person than I was. I could only 
promise him to discuss the matter with Kinkel and his asso- 
ciates, after his return from America. But I did not con- 
ceal from Mazzini that I doubted whether the responsible 
German leaders would consider themselves justified in using 
moneys which had been collected for employment in their 
own country for the furtherance of revolutionary uprisings 
in Italy. This remark gave Mazzini an opportunity for some 
eloquent sentiments about the solidarity of peoples in their 
struggle for liberty and national existence. At that time neither 
of us knew yet how small would be the result of the agitation 
for a German national loan. 

I was honored with another meeting that has remained to 
me hardly less memorable. In October, 1851, Louis Kossuth 
came to England. After the breakdown of the Hungarian 
revolution he had fled across the Turkish frontier. His remain- 
ing on Turkish soil was considered objectionable by the Aus- 
trian government, and unsafe by his friends. The Sultan, in- 
deed, refused his extradition. But when the republic of the 
United States of America, in general sympathy with the unfor- 
tunate Hungarian patriots, offered them an American ship-of- 

[384-] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
war for their transportation to the United States that offer was 
unhesitatingly accepted. But Kossuth did not intend to emi- 
grate to America for the purpose of establishing there his per- 
manent residence. He was far from considering his mission as 
ended and the defeat of his cause as irretrievable. He, too, with 
the sanguine temperament of the exile, dreamed of the possi- 
bility of inducing the liberal part of the old and also of the new 
world to take up arms against the oppressors of Hungary, or 
at least to aid his country by diplomatic interference. And, 
indeed, could this have been accomplished by a mere appeal to 
the emotions and the imagination, Kossuth would have been the 
man to achieve it. Of all the events of the years 1848 and 1849, 
the heroic struggle of the Hungarians for their national inde- 
pendence had excited the liveliest sympathy in other countries. 
The brave generals, who for a time went from victory to victory 
and then succumbed to the overwhelming power of the Russian 
intervention, appeared like the champions of a heroic legend, 
and among and above them stood the figure of Kossuth like 
that of a prophet whose burning words kindled and kept 
alive the fire of patriotism in the hearts of his people. There 
was everything of heroism and tragic misfortune to make this 
epic grand and touching, and the whole romance of the revolu- 
tionary time found in Kossuth's person its most attractive em- 
bodiment. The sonorous notes of his eloquence had, during the 
struggle, been heard far beyond the boundaries of Hungary 
in the outside world. Not a few of his lofty sentences, his poetic 
illustrations and his thrilling appeals had passed from mouth to 
mouth among us young people at the German universities. 
And his picture, with thoughtful forehead, the dreamy eyes 
and his strong, beard-framed chin, became everywhere an ob- 
ject of admiring reverence. 

When now, delaying his journey to America, he arrived 

[385] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
in London the enthusiasm of the English people seemed to 
know no bounds. His entry was like that of a national hero 
returning from a victorious campaign. The multitudes crowd- 
ing the streets were immense. He appeared in his picturesque 
Hungarian garb, standing upright in his carriage, with his 
saber at his side, and surrounded by an equally picturesque reti- 
nue. But when he began to speak, and his voice, with its reson- 
ant and at the same time mellow sound, poured forth its har- 
mony over the heads of the throngs in classic English, deriving 
a peculiar charm from the soft tinge of foreign accent, then 
the enthusiasm of the listeners mocked all description. 

Kossuth had been offered the hospitality of the house of 
a private citizen of London who took an especial interest in 
the Hungarian cause; and there during his sojourn in the Brit- 
ish capital he received his admirers and friends. A kind of 
court surrounded him; his companions, always in their Hun- 
garian national dress, maintained in a ceremonious way his 
pretension of his still being the rightful governor of Hungary. 
He granted audiences like a prince, and when he entered the 
room he was announced by an aide-de-camp as ' the Gov- 
ernor." All persons rose and Kossuth saluted them with grave 
solemnity. Among the exiles of other nations these somewhat 
undemocratic formalities created no little displeasure. But it 
was Kossuth's intention to produce certain effects upon public 
opinion, not in his own, but in his people's behalf, and as to that 
end it may have seemed to him necessary to impress upon the 
imagination of the Englishmen the picture of Hungary under 
her own Governor, and also to illustrate to them the firm faith 
of the Hungarians themselves in the justice of their cause, it 
was not improper that he used such picturesque displays as 
means for the accomplishment of his purpose. 

Our organization of German refugees also sent a deputa- 

[386] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
tion to Kossuth to pay their respects, and of that deputation I 
was one. We were ushered into the reception-room in the cus- 
tomary way and there salutued by aides-de-camp with much 
gold lace on their coats — handsome fellows, with fine black 
mustaches and splendid white teeth. At last Kossuth appeared. 
It was the first time that I came near to him. The speaker of our 
deputation introduced us each by name, and as mine was called 
Kossuth reached out his hand to me and said in German: " I 
know you. You have done a noble deed. I am rejoiced to take 
your hand." I was so embarrassed that I could not say any- 
thing in response. But it was, after all, a proud moment. A 
short conversation followed, in which I took but small part. A 
member of our deputation spoke of the socialistic tendencies of 
the new revolutionary agitation. I remember distinctly what 
Kossuth answered. It was to this effect: "I know nothing of 
socialism. I have never occupied myself with it. My aim is to 
secure for the Hungarian people national independence and 
free political institutions. When that is done my task will have 
been performed." 

On public occasions, wherever Kossuth put forth his whole 
eloquence to inflame the enthusiasm of Englishmen for the 
Hungarian cause, his hearers always rewarded him with frantic 
applause; but his efforts to induce the British government to 
take active steps against Russia and Austria in behalf of Hun- 
gary could not escape sober criticism, and all his attempts to 
get the ear of official circles and to come into confidential touch 
with the Palmerston ministry came to nothing. In fact, the 
same experience awaited him in the United States: great en- 
thusiasm for his person and for the heroic struggles of his peo- 
ple, but then sober consideration of the traditional policy of the 
United States, and an unwillingness to abandon that traditional 
policy by active intervention in the affairs of the old world. 

[387] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
Before Kossuth began his agitation in America, Kinkel 
had returned from there. He had much to tell of the new world 
that was good and beautiful, although he was obliged to con- 
fess to himself that the practical result of his mission was 
discouragingly trifling. With robust energy he resumed his 
interrupted activity as a teacher, and with him the old sunshine 
returned to the Kinkel home. 



[388 ] 



CHAPTER XIV 

IN the autumn of 1851 the refugees in London, especially the 
Germans, found a common meeting-place in the drawing-room 
of a born aristocrat, the Baroness von Briining, nee Princess 
Lieven, from one of the German provinces of Russia. She 
was then a little more than thirty years old ; not exactly beauti- 
ful, but of an open, agreeable, winning expression of face, fine 
manners and a stimulating gift of conversation. How, with 
her aristocratic birth and social position, she had dropped into 
the democratic current I do not know. Probably the reports of 
the struggles for liberty in Western Europe, which crossed the 
Russian frontier, had inflamed her imagination, and her viva- 
cious nature had indulged itself in incautious utterances against 
the despotic rule of the Emperor Nicholas. In short, she found 
life in Russia intolerable, or, may be, she was in danger of 
arrest had she not left her native country. For some time she 
lived in Germany and in Switzerland, and there became ac- 
quainted with various liberal leaders. She had also corresponded 
with Frau Kinkel and contributed a portion of the money 
which was employed in Kinkel's liberation. But on the Euro- 
pean continent she believed herself constantly pursued by Rus- 
sian influences; and no doubt the police, at least in Germany, 
made itself quite disagreeable to her. So she sought at last 
refuge on English soil, and in order to be in constant contact 
with persons of her own way of thinking she settled down in 
the midst of the Colony of German refugees in the suburb 
of St. John's Wood. She was most cordially received by the 

[389] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
Kinkel family, and attempted to manage the social part of their 
establishment. This, however, soon proved impossible. The rich 
woman, reared in affluent circumstances, could hardly under- 
stand that a family obliged to work for its daily living with the 
most strenuous activity had to husband its time as well as its 
means with the strictest economy, and could allow itself the 
luxury of an agreeable social intercourse only to a limited 
extent. The industry and devotion to duty of the Kinkels could 
hardly accord with the well-meaning but somewhat extravagant 
intentions of Baroness Briining. She hired a spacious house 
on St. John's Wood Terrace, opened her salon with great hos- 
pitality to her friends, and a numerous circle of refugees met 
there almost every evening. 

The Baroness was surrounded by her husband and her 
children, and the sociability of her house was that of agreeable 
family life. Baron Briining indeed did not seem to feel him- 
self quite at home with the friends that visited his drawing- 
room. He was a distinguished-looking, quiet gentleman, of fine 
breeding and manners, who, if his ideas did not harmonize with 
the political principles and teachings that found voice around 
him, did not make the guests of his house feel his dissent. When 
the political opinions uttered in his presence happened to be too 
extreme a somewhat ironical smile would play about his lips; 
and he met the constantly recurring prophecy, that soon all 
dynasties on the European Continent would be upset and a 
family of republics take their place, with the quiet question: 
" Do you really think that this will soon happen? ' But he was 
always pleasant and obliging, and never failed to fill his place 
in the social circle and welcomed everybody who was welcome to 
his wife. The more thoughtful among the guests, and those who 
had mental interests outside of revolutionary politics, recognized 
it as a matter of good breeding to reciprocate the amiability 

[390] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCIIURZ 
of the Baron with every possible attention; and they found 
in him a well-meaning and well-informed man, who had read 
much and had formed very clear opinions about many subjects. 
Thus relations of a certain confidentiality developed themselves 
between him and some of his guests, of whom I was one; and if 
he ever talked about his domestic conditions the impression was 
conveyed that he looked upon the democratic enthusiasms of 
his wife, with all its consequences, as a matter of fate which 
must be submitted to. The cause of his compliance with all her 
eccentricities was by some of us supposed to be that the fortune 
of the family had come from her side, but it is just as likely that 
it was the usual helplessness of the weaker will against the 
stronger, and that the Baron permitted himself to be whirled 
from place to place and from one social circle to another, 
although undesirable to him, because the power of resistance 
was not one of his otherwise excellent qualities. However, the 
two spoke of one another always with the greatest and most 
unaffected esteem and warmth, and the Baron made the educa- 
tion of his children the special object of his care and endeavor. 
Baroness Briining was almost entirely absorbed with the 
society of the exiles. She was not a woman of great mental 
gifts. Her knowledge was somewhat superficial and her think- 
ing not profound. She possessed the education of ' good so- 
ciety," and with it true goodness of heart in the most amiable 
form. As is usually the case with women whose views and opin- 
ions spring more from the emotions of the heart than from a 
clear and sober observation of things and proper conclusions 
drawn by the understanding, she devoted her enthusiasms and 
sympathies more to persons than to principles, endeavors and 
objects. Such women are frequently accused of an inordinate 
desire to please, and it may indeed have flattered the Baroness 
to be the center of a social circle in which there were many men 

[391] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
and women of superior mind and character, but her enthusiastic 
nature was so genuine, her desire to offer a home to the exiles 
so indefatigable, her sympathy with every case of suffering so 
self-sacrificing, and her character, with all the freedom of per- 
sonal intercourse, so perfectly spotless and unassailable, that 
she would easily have been forgiven much greater vanity. For 
many of the refugees she was really a good fairy. One she 
enabled at her own expense to send for his long-betrothed bride 
from Germany; for another she procured a decent dwelling, 
and made a secret agreement with the landlord according to 
which she paid part of the rent ; she ran about to procure occu- 
pation as a teacher for a third; for a fourth, an artist, she got 
orders; to a fifth she was the sister of mercy in illness. With 
watchful providence she sought to learn from one what the 
other might want and what she might do to help, for she was 
always careful to hide the helping hand. Her self-sacrificing 
lavishness went so far that she imposed upon herself all sorts 
of privations to help others with her savings. Thus she had only 
one gown in which to appear in the salon. This was of purple 
satin and had in bygone times doubtless appeared very elegant ; 
but as she constantly wore it there was visible on it not only 
threadbare spots, but even patches. Some of the ladies of our 
circle talked to her about it, and she replied: "Ah, yes, it is 
true I must have a new gown; I have been frequently on my 
way to a dressmaker, but every time something more necessary 
occurred to me and I turned back." The old gown had there- 
fore to do service throughout another entire winter. There 
could have been nothing more charming than the zeal with which 
in her drawing-room she sought to cheer the depressed and to 
minister consolation and courage to the downcast, and I still 
see her, as with her sparkling blue eyes she sat among us and 
talked eloquently about the great change that was to take place 

[392] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
and the good time which must inevitably soon come, and would 
triumphantly carry us all back into the fatherland. And with 
all this she was tormented with a disease of the heart which 
caused her sometimes great suffering and the foreboding of an 
early death. One day, when I accompanied her on a walk, she 
suddenly stood still and clutched my arm. Her breath seemed 
to stop. I looked at her in terror. She had closed her eyes with 
an expression of pain. At last she opened her eyes again and 
said: " Did you hear my heart beat? I shall soon die. I can live 
hardly more than a year. But do not tell anybody. I did not 
mean to speak of it, but it has just now escaped me." I tried to 
quiet her apprehensions, but in vain. ' No," she said, " I know 
it, but it does not matter. Now let us talk about something else." 
Her presentiment was to come true only too quickly. 

In the circle of the Briining house there were some inter- 
esting and able men who had already proved their worth or were 
destined to prove it in later life. There was Loewe, who, shortly 
after I had met him in Switzerland, had left the Continent and 
sought a secure asylum in England. There was Count Oscar 
von Reichenbach of Silesia, a man of much knowledge and a 
thoroughly noble nature. There was Oppenheim, a writer of 
uncommon wit and large acquirements. There was Willich, 
the socialist leader, and Schimmelpfennig, two future Ameri- 
can generals. The good Strodtmann, who had followed us to 
London, was frequently seen there. We also met there birds 
of passage of a different kind. One day a Frenchman from 
Marseilles, by the name of Barthelemi, was introduced, I do not 
remember by whom, in the Briining salon and pointed out as 
a specially remarkable personage. His past had indeed been 
remarkable enough. Already before the revolution of 1818 he 
had taken part in a secret conspiracy, the so-called " Marianne," 
had, after being designated by lot, killed a police officer, and 

[393] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
had been sentenced to a term in the galleys. In consequence 
of the revolution of 1848 he was set free, then fought on the 
barricades in the socialist rising in Paris, in June, 1848 — the 
bloody " June Battle " — whereupon he succeeded in escaping 
to England. It was said of him that he had killed several per- 
sons: some in duels, some without that formality. Now he 
passed as a " workingman," whose principal occupation was 
that of the professional conspirator. He stands before my eyes 
now as he entered the Briining salon and took his seat near the 
fireplace: a man of a little more than thirty years, of sturdy 
figure, a face of dusky paleness with black mustache and 
goatee, the dark eyes glowing with piercing fire. He spoke in 
a deep, sonorous voice, slowly and measuredly with dogmatic 
assurance, waving off contrary opinions with a word of com- 
passionate disdain. With the greatest coolness he explained to 
us his own theory of the revolution, which simply provided that 
the contrary minded without much ado be exterminated. The 
man expressed himself with great clearness, like one who had 
thought much and deliberately upon his subject and had drawn 
his conclusions by means of the severest logic. We saw before 
us, therefore, one of those fanatics that are not seldom pro- 
duced in revolutionary times — men perhaps of considerable 
ability, whose understanding of the moral order of the universe 
has been thoroughly confused by his constant staring at one 
point; who has lost every conception of abstract right; to whom 
any crime appears permissible, nay, as a virtuous act, if it serves 
as a means to his end; who regards everybody standing in the 
way as outside of the protection of the law ; who consequently is 
ever ready to kill anybody and to sacrifice also his own life for 
his nebulous objects. Such fanatics are capable of becoming as 
cruel as wild beasts and also of dying like heroes. It was quite 
natural that several of those who listened to Barthelemi in the 

[394] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
Briining salon felt uneasy in his company. Never was Bar- 
thelemi seen there again. A few years later, in 1855, he came 
to a characteristic end. He had been living constantly in Lon- 
don, but retired more and more from his friends because, as 
was said, he lived with a woman to whom he was passionately 
attached. It was reported also that he was acquainted with a 
wealthy Englishman whom he often visited. One day he called 
at the house of that Englishman with the woman mentioned. 
He carried a traveling satchel in his hand, like one who was on 
his way to a railroad station. Suddenly the report of a pistol shot 
was heard in the apartment of the Englishman, and Barthelemi, 
pursued by the cries of a woman servant, ran out of the house 
with his mistress. The Englishman was found dead in a pool 
of blood in his room. A police officer who tried to stop Bar- 
thelemi on the street also fell mortally wounded by Barthelemi's 
pistol. A crowd rapidly gathering stopped the murderer, dis- 
armed him and delivered him to the authorities. The woman 
escaped in the confusion and was never seen again. All at- 
tempts to make Barthelemi disclose his curious relations with 
the murdered Englishman were vain. He wrapped himself in 
the deepest silence, and, so far as I know, the mysterious story 
has never been cleared up. There was only a rumor that Bar- 
thelemi had intended to go to Paris and kill Louis Napoleon, 
that the Englishman had promised him the necessary money, 
but had refused it at the decisive moment, and that at their last 
meeting Barthelemi had shot him, either in order to get posses- 
sion of the money or in a rage at the refusal. Another rumor 
had it that the woman was only a spy of the French govern- 
ment, sent to London with instructions to watch Barthelemi 
and finally to betray him. Barthelemi was tried for murder in 
the first degree, sentenced to death, and hanged. He met death 
with the greatest composure, and exclaimed, in the face of the 

[395] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
gallows, " In a few moments, now, I shall see the great mys- 
tery! " and then died with calm dignity. 

My dear old friend, Fraulein Malwida von Meysenbug, 
has told the story with great warmth in her remarkable book, 
' The Memoirs of an Idealist." The reader will find there 
a very striking example of the impression which a personality 
like Barthelemi's, whatever the cool judgment of the under- 
standing and the voice of justice about him may be, could make 
upon the soul of a woman of a superior mind and of a suscep- 
tible imagination. The execution of Barthelemi revolted her 
feelings and moved her to tears, but nothing could be more cer- 
tain than that if a pardon had liberated him his insane fanati- 
cism which made him speak of a murder as of a breakfast would 
have led him to other bloody deeds, and would finally again 
have placed him in the hands of the hangman. 

Malwida von Meysenbug was one of my most valued 
friends in the Briining circle. She was the daughter of Herr 
•jc von Meysenbug, a minister of the Elector of Hesse-Cassel, 
who, probably unjustly, had been regarded as a stiff aristocrat 
and absolutist. After long inward struggles, in which a pro- 
found attachment to a young democrat, the brother of my 
friend, Friedrich Althaus, played an important part, Malwida 
openly declared herself an adherent of democratic principles; 
found it impossible to remain longer with her family; went in 
the year 1849-50 to Hamburg to co-operate with some kindred 
spirits of liberal sentiments in founding a high school for 
young women ; came into some conflict with the police through 
her acquaintance and correspondence with democrats, and, espe- 
cially attracted by the Kinkels, landed in London in our circle. 
She has herself described her development and the vicissitudes 
of her life with characteristic frankness and in an exceedingly 
interesting fashion in the book already mentioned — " The 

[396] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
Memoirs of an Idealist." When we met in London she may 
have been about thirty-five, but she looked older than she really 
was. In point of appearance, she had not been favored by 
nature, but her friends soon became accustomed to overlook 
that disadvantage in the appreciation of her higher qualities. 
She had read much and had many opinions, which she main- 
tained with great energy. With the most zealous interest she 
followed the events of the time on the political as well as on the 
literary, scientific and artistic field. She was animated by an 
almost vehement and truly eloquent enthusiasm for all that 
appeared to her good and noble and beautiful. She felt the 
impulse, wherever possible, to lend a hand, and pursued her 
endeavors with a zeal and an earnestness which made her occa- 
sionally a severe judge of what seemed to her a light-minded 
or frivolous treatment of important things. Her whole being- 
was so honest, simple and unpretending, the goodness of her 
heart so inexhaustible, her sympathies so real and self-sacri- 
ficing, her principles so genuine and faithful, that everybody 
who learned to know her well readily forgave her that trait of 
imaginative eccentricity which appeared sometimes in her views 
and enthusiasms, but which really was to be attributed to the 
excitability of her temperament and the innate kindness and 
nobility of her heart. The tone of conversation in the Bruning 
salon did not always please her. When she carried on serious 
discourse with a member of our circle about important subjects 
the lighthearted merriment of others was apt to jar upon her. 
The Baroness herself could not follow her much in the grave 
treatment which Malwida bestowed upon all questions of conse- 
quence, but their personal sympathies still held them together. 
The books written by Malwida von Meysenbug, long after 
the time of which I speak, reveal a human soul of the finest 
instincts and impulses, and, in spite of many disappointments. 

[397] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
of touching faithfulness to high principles and aspirations. 
One of them, the " Memoirs of an Idealist," owed to its exquis- 
ite charms of noble sentiment and genuine sincerity the rare 
good fortune of reappearing in literature after a long period of 
seeming oblivion. She lived to a high old age, the last thirty 
years in Rome, as the center of a large circle of friends, many 
of them distinguished characters, who clung to her inspiring 
personality with singular affection. We remained warm friends 
to the end. 

Now to return to my narrative — an event occurred which 
essentially darkened the horizon of refugeedom, and which 
also gave to my fate an unexpected and decisive turn. 

The reports which we had received from our friends in 
Paris made us believe that Louis Napoleon, the president of 
the French republic, was an object of general contempt, that 
he played a really ridiculous figure with his manifest ambition 
to restore the empire in France and to mount the throne, and 
that every attempt to accomplish this by force would inevitably 
result in his downfall and in the institution of a strong and 
truly republican government. The tone of the opposition pa- 
pers in Paris gave much color to this view. Suddenly, on the 
2d of December, 1851, the news arrived in London that 
Louis Napoleon had actually undertaken the long-expected 
coup d'etat. He had secured the support of the army, had occu- 
pied the meeting-place of the national assembly with troops, 
had arrested the leaders of the opposition, as well as General 
Changarnier, who had been intrusted by the national assem- 
bly with its protection, had laid his hand upon several other 
generals suspected of republican sentiments, had published a 
decree restoring universal suffrage, which had been restricted 
by the national assembly, and issued a proclamation to the 
French people. In this he accused the parliamentary parties of 

[398] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
criminal selfishness and demanded the establishment of a con- 
sulate, the consul to hold office for ten years. Exciting reports 
arrived in rapid succession. Members of the national assem- 
bly had met in considerable numbers and tried to organize re- 
sistance to the coup d'etat, but were soon dispersed by military 
force. At last the news came that the people, too, were begin- 
ning to " descend into the streets " and to build barricades. 
Now the decisive battle was to be fought. 

It is impossible to describe the state of mind produced 
among the exiles by these reports. We Germans ran to the 
meeting-places of the French clubs, because we expected to 
receive there the clearest and most reliable tidings, perhaps from 
sources which might not be open to the general public. In these 
clubs we found a feverish excitement bordering upon mad- 
ness. Our French friends shouted and shrieked and gestic- 
ulated and hurled opprobrious names at Louis Napoleon and 
cursed his helpers, and danced the Carmagnole and sang " Ca 
Ira." All were sure of a victory of the people. The most glorious 
bulletins of the progress of the street fight went from mouth 
to mouth. Some of them were proclaimed by wild-looking 
revolutionary exiles, who had jumped upon tables, and frantic 
screams of applause welcomed them. So it went on a night, a 
day and again a night. Sleep was out of the question. There 
was hardly time for the necessary meals. The reports of victory 
were followed by others that sounded less favorable. They could 
not and would not be believed. They were " the dispatches of the 
usurper and his slaves " ; " they lied " ; " they could not do other- 
wise than lie " ; but the messages continued more and more 
gloomy. The barricades which the people had erected in the 
night of the 2d and 3d of December had been taken by the army 
without much trouble. On the 4th a serious battle occurred on 
the streets of the Faubourgs St. Martin and St. Denis, but 

[399] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
there, too, the troops had remained masters of the field. Then 
the soldiery rushed into the houses and murdered without dis- 
crimination or compassion. At last there was the quiet of the 
graveyard in the great city. The popular rising had been com- 
paratively insignificant and powerless. The usurper who had 
but recently been represented as a weak-minded adventurer, the 
mere " nephew of his uncle," had succeeded in subjugating 
Paris. The departments did not move; there was no doubt the 
Republic was at an end, and with its downfall vanished also 
the prospect of the new revolutionary upheaval, which, on the 
impulse coming from France, was expected to spread over the 
whole European continent. 

Stunned by all these terrible reports, and mentally as well 
as physically exhausted, we quietly returned to our quarters. 
After I had recuperated from this consuming excitement by a 
long sleep I tried to become clear in my mind about the changed 
situation of things. It was a foggy day, and I went out be- 
cause I found it impossible to sit still within my four walls. 
Absorbed in thought, I wandered on without any definite 
aim, and found myself at last in Hyde Park, where, in 
spite of the chilly air, I sat down on a bench. In whatever 
light I might consider the downfall of the republic and the 
advent of a new monarchy in France, one thing seemed to me 
certain: All the efforts connected with the revolution of 1848 
were now hopeless; a period of decided and general reaction 
was bound to come, and whatever the future might bring of 
further developments in the direction of liberal movement 
must necessarily have a new starting-point. 

With this conviction my own situation became equally 
clear to me. It would have been childish to give myself up to 
further illusory hopes of a speedy return to the Fatherland. To 
continue our plottings and thereby bring still more mischief 

[ 400] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
upon others, appeared to me a reckless and wicked game. I 
had long recognized the exile's life to be empty and enervating. 
I felt an irresistible impulse not only to find for myself a well- 
regulated activity, but also to do something really and truly 
valuable for the general good. But where, and how? The 
fatherland was closed to me. England was to me a foreign 
country, and would always remain so. Where, then? " To 
America," I said to myself. " The ideals of which I have 
dreamed and for which I have fought I shall find there, if 
not fully realized, but hopefully struggling for full realization. 
In that struggle I shall perhaps be able to take some part. It 
is a new world, a free world, a world of great ideas and aims. 
In that world there is perhaps for me a new home. Ubi libertas 
ibi patria — I formed my resolution on the spot. I would remain 
only a short time longer in England to make some necessary 
preparations, and then — off to America! 

I had sat perhaps half an hour on that bench in Hyde Park, 
immersed in my thoughts, when I noticed that on the other 
end of the bench a man was sitting who seemed likewise to be 
musingly staring at the ground. He was a little man, and as I 
observed him more closely I believed I recognized him. Indeed, 
I did. It was Louis Blanc, the French socialist leader, a former 
member of the provisional government of France. I had re- 
cently in some social gathering been introduced to him, and he 
had talked with me in a very amiable and animated way. In- 
deed, I had found him uncommonly attractive. When I was 
through with my own thoughts I arose to go away without 
intending to disturb him, but he lifted his head, looked at me 
with eyes that seemed not to have known sleep for several 
nights, and said, "Ah, c'est vous, mon jeune ami! c'est flni, 
n'est ce pas? C'est fini! " We pressed one another's hands. His 
head sank again upon his breast, and I went my way home to 

[401 1 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
inform my parents at once, by letter, of the resolution I had 
taken on that bench in Hyde Park. Some of my fellow-exiles 
tried to dissuade me from it, picturing to me all sorts of won- 
derful things which would happen very soon on the European 
continent and in which we refugees must take an active part; 
but I had seen too thoroughly through the unreality of these 
fantastic imaginings to be shaken in my resolve. 

Now something happened that infused into my appar- 
ently gloomy situation a radiance of sunshine and opened to 
my life unlooked-for prospects. A few weeks previous to Louis 
Napoleon's coup d'etat I had some business to transact with 
another German exile, and visited him in his residence in Hamp- 
stead. I vividly remember how I went there on foot, through 
rows of hedges and avenues of trees, where now, probably, is 
a dense mass of houses, not anticipating that a meeting of far 
greater importance than that with him was in store for me. My 
business was soon disposed of and I rose to go, but my friend 
stopped me and called out into an adjacent room, " Margare- 
tha, come in, if you please, here is a gentleman with whom I 
wish you to become acquainted. This is my sister-in-law," he 
added, turning to me, " just arrived from Hamburg on a visit." 
A girl of about eighteen years entered, of fine stature, a curly 
head, something childlike in her beautiful features and large, 
dark, truthful eyes. This was my introduction to my future 
wife. 

On the 6th of July, 1852, we were married in the parish 
church of Marylebone in London. I have put down in writing 
how it all came to pass in those otherwise gloomy days ; but that 
part of my story naturally belongs to my children only and 
to our inner home circle. 

In August we were ready to sail for America. Before my 
departure Mazzini invited me to visit him once more. He con- 

[402] 



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CARL SCHIRZ AND HIS WIFE 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
fided to me the secret of a revolutionary enterprise which he 
had in hand and which, as he said, promised great results. 
There was to be a new uprising in Lombardy. With his glowing 
eloquence he pictured to me how the Italian soldiers of liberty 
would crowd the Austrians into the Alps, and how then similar 
movements would spring from this victorious insurrection in all 
other countries of the European Continent, and that then such 
young men as I should be on the spot to help carry on the 
work so prosperously begun. " All this will happen," he said, 
" before you will reach America, or shortly after. How you 
will wish not to have left us! You will take the next ship to 
return to Europe. Save yourself this unnecessary voyage." I 
had to confess to him that my hopes were not so sanguine as 
his ; that I did not see in the condition of things on the Continent 
any prospect of a change soon to come, which might call me 
back to the Fatherland and to a fruitful activity ; that, if in the 
remote future such changes should come they would shape 
themselves in ways different from those that we now imagined, 
and that then there would be other people to carry them 
through. Mazzini shook his head, but he saw that he could 
not persuade me. Thus we parted, and I never saw him 



again. 



A short time after my arrival in America I did indeed hear 
of the outbreak of the revolutionary enterprise which Mazzini 
had predicted to me. It consisted of an insurrectionary attempt 
in Milan, which was easily suppressed by the Austrian troops 
and resulted only in the imprisonment of a number of Italian 
patriots. And Mazzini's cause, the unity of Italy under a free 
government, seemed then to be more hopeless than ever. 

Kossuth returned from America a sorely disappointed 
man. He had been greeted by the American people with un- 
bounded enthusiasm. Countless multitudes had listened to his 

[ 403 ] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
enchanting eloquence and overwhelmed him with sympathy and 
admiration. The President of the United States had reveren- 
tially pressed his hand and Congress had received him with 
extraordinary honors. There had been no end of parades and 
receptions and festive banquets. But the government of the 
United States, with the approval of the American people, 
steadfastly maintained the traditional policy of non-interfer- 
ence in European affairs. Kossuth's appeal for " substantial 
aid " to his country in its struggle for independence had been 
in vain. When he returned to England he found that the popu- 
lar enthusiasm there, which had greeted him but a few months 
before, was burned out. He still tried to continue the advocacy 
of his cause by delivering addresses in various English cities, 
and was listened to with the most respectful and sympathetic 
attention as a very distinguished lecturer. When he appeared 
on the streets he was no longer cheered by multitudes surging 
around him. Persons recognizing him would take off their hats 
and whisper to one another: "There goes Kossuth, the great 
Hungarian patriot." His cause, the independence of his coun- 
try, seemed to be dead and buried. 

Mazzini and Kossuth — how strangely fate played with 
those two men ! Mazzini had all his life plotted, and struggled, 
and suffered for the unification of Italy under a free national 
government. Not many years after the period of which I 
speak the national unity of Italy did indeed come, first partially 
aided by the man Mazzini hated most, the French Emperor 
Louis Napoleon, and then greatly advanced by the marvelous 
campaign of Garibaldi, which is said to have been originally 
planned by Mazzini himself, and which reads in history like a 
romantic adventure of the time of the Crusades. Finally the 
unification of Italy was fully achieved under the auspices of 
the dynasty of Savoy; and Mazzini the republican at last died 

[404] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCUT 11/ 
in an obscure corner in unified Italy, where he had hidden him- 
self under a false name, an exile in his own country. 

Kossuth had agitated with his wonderful eloquence and 
then conducted a brilliant though unfortunate war for the na- 
tional independence of Hungary. A defeated man, he went 
into exile. In the course of time, much of the political auton- 
omy, of the substantial independence of Hungary as a self- 
governing country, was accomplished by peaceable means, and 
the Hungarian people seemed for a while to be contented with 
it. But it was accomplished under the kingship of the house of 
Hapsburg; and Kossuth, who never would bow his head to the 
Hapsburg, inflexibly resisted every invitation of his people 
calling him back to his country whose legendary national hero 
he had not ceased to be ; and he finally died as a voluntary exile 
at Turin, a very old and lonely man. 

A large part of what those two men had striven for was 
at last won — but it then appeared in a form in which they 
would not recognize it as their own. 

The German revolutionists of 1848 met a similar fate. 
They fought for German unity and free government and were 
defeated mainly by Prussian bayonets. Then came years of 
stupid political reaction and national humiliation, in which air 
that the men of 1848 had stood for seemed utterly lost. Then 
a change. Frederick William IV., who more than any man 
of his time had cherished a mystic belief in the special divine 
inspiration of kings— Frederick William IV. fell insane and 
had to drop the reins of government. The Prince of Prussia, 
whom the revolutionists of 1848 had regarded as the bitterest 
and most uncompromising enemy of their cause, followed him, 
first as regent and then as king — destined to become the first 
emperor of the new German Empire! He called Bismarck to 
his side as prime minister — Bismarck, who originally had been 

[405] 



THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ 
the sternest spokesman of absolutism and the most ardent foe 
of the revolution. And then German unity, with a national 
a parliament, was won, not through a revolutionary uprising, but 
through monarchical action and foreign wars. 

Thus, if not all, yet a great and important part of the ob- 
jects struggled for by the German revolutionists of 1848 was 
after all accomplished — much later, indeed, and less peaceably 
and less completely than they had wished, and through the in- 
y strumentality of persons and forces originally hostile to them, 
but producing new conditions which promise to develop for the 
united Germany political forms and institutions of govern- 
ment much nearer to the ideals of 1848 than those now existing. 
And many thoughtful men now frequently ask the question — 
and a very pertinent question it is — whether all these things 
would have been possible had not the great national awakening 
of the year 1848 prepared the way for them. 

But in the summer of 1852 the future lay before us in a 
gloomy cloud. In France, Louis Napoleon seemed firmly 
seated on the neck of his submissive people. The British gov- 
ernment under Lord Palmerston had shaken hands with him. 
All over the European Continent the reaction from the liberal 
movements of the past four years celebrated triumphant 
orgies. How long it would prove irresistible nobody could tell. 
That some of its very champions would themselves become the 
leaders of the national spirit in Germany even the most san- 
guine would in 1851 not have ventured to anticipate. 

My young wife and myself sailed from Portsmouth in 
August, 1852, and landed in the harbor of New York on a 
bright September morning. With the buoyant hopefulness of 
young hearts, we saluted the new world. 

END OF VOLUME I 
[406] 



